


Composure Cool as Ice

by LordCheesecake



Series: Fire and Ice don't mix [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Bending (Avatar), Bending (Avatar), Cage Fights, Found Family, Gen, Growing Up, Izaya-centric, Military, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Discovery, in a way i guess, post partum depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordCheesecake/pseuds/LordCheesecake
Summary: Izaya did not know who he was.In the military compound, he was looked down upon by the senior officers as nothing but a child. To the other children, he was a ghost, a foreigner with skin too pale to be like them. To his family, well, he didn't have a family, not even a name to call his own.So, who is Izaya?ORIzaya's journey of self-discovery & finding a place to belong.
Relationships: Orihara Izaya & Orihara Kururi & Orihara Mairu, Orihara Izaya & Orihara Kyouko & Orihara Shirou, Orihara Kyouko/Orihara Shirou
Series: Fire and Ice don't mix [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610911
Comments: 20
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is Izaya's character introduction for my ATLA au!
> 
> This chapter serves more as backstory for people to know, and will likely have 3 chapters of legit plot like Shizuo's part.
> 
> Sorry if the summary's a little weird, but in my defense, it was hard to write.

A beam of pale light filtered through the cheap curtains of the hotel room, slowly illuminating the dark space before shining on a young woman's face. The woman, named Kyouko, was beautiful in every sense of the word, with high cheekbones and defined almond eyes. Her hair was long and dark, gleaming with highlights of red and gold under the shine of morning light.

Kyouko groaned softly, closing her eyes tighter as the soft brightness of dawn hit her eyes, aggravating the headache that was stirring at the back of her head.

With a soft huff, she wriggled further beneath the sheets, sighing as darkness once again wreathed around her. It was disgusting, knowing that this was the mattress that she was gasping and moaning on just hours before, but she ignored it as best she could.

A deep chuckle sounded from above her. "Not much of a morning person, are you?" a man rumbled, making the woman shiver.

"Not particularly," she shot back with a purr. "I have a headache."

"That makes sense," the man snorted, "you drank a lot last night. And here I was thinking you were a lightweight."

Kyouko pursed her lips and poked her head out from under the covers. "How rude," she sniffed, lifting her nose haughtily. "And here I was thinking you were a gentleman."

The man just smirked and her and pushed the blankets off his hips. He pulled on his briefs before reaching to the nightstand on his side of the bed, slipping a silver ring onto his left hand. Kyouko looked away, glancing at the slim gold band of her own, studded with a gleaming white diamond at the centre.

She felt a slow tide of guilt wash over her. She shouldn't have done this. It was all a mistake. Even after Shirou had treated her so well, she went and...

The man cleared his throat. "This has been nice and all, but I really should be going." He quickly pulled on his shirt, tucking the edges of it hastily into his slacks. "Our cargo ship's leaving soon. I should get back to the docks, or else they'll leave me here," he said as he grabbed his vest from where it was hastily thrown on the floor.

She watched the man slowly pick up the things he'd dropped the night before, pocketing his phone and his wallet, and shrugging on the last of his clothes. "Will you be able to get home yourself?"

The woman sighed, thinking about all the scoldings the palace servants would give her. But when she got back, things would go back to normal. Kyouko could forget that this encounter ever happened, could pretend that she hadn't gone out and drunk herself stupid the night before. She could forget how intimate she was with this man. She could erase this whole night as if it never happened. "I'll be fine."

"Good. It really was nice meeting you." Kyouko nodded, watching the tall figure of the man slip silently from the room.

* * *

Three months later, Kyouko made a horrific discovery.

Something was growing inside her, protruding just above her pelvis and manifesting as an ugly bump on her stomach. There was no mistaking what it was, and Kyouko knew that this time, she couldn't just forget about.

For there was a little life growing inside her, a parasitic young soul kindled from that passionate night from so long ago.

Kyouko kept that tiny secret hidden for as long as she could, draping heavy fabric over her midsection, and dismissing her weight gain as an overindulgence of dessert. But that secret was growing stronger with each day that passed, swelling in her stomach as a reminder that she couldn't keep the charade up forever. 

What was worst was the guilt that ate away at her mind. Usually, she wouldn't have batted an eye at her actions. She didn't care before, she didn't care the moment this life was conceived, and yet she found herself despairing at the overwhelming feeling of guilt. She had betrayed her fiance, Shirou Dakelh, future chieftain of the Southern Water Tribe. She abused the kindness he'd offered her, and even though she didn't love him, she knew he didn't deserve this either.

Eventually, Kyouko cracked under the weight of her actions and, after she was unable to hide her growing belly, she confessed. But rather than being enraged, Shirou merely gave her a smile and reassured her that everything would be alright. He wiped away the shameful tears building in the corners of her eyes and held her close, promising that he wasn't angry with her.

Shirou convinced her to keep the child, saying that it didn't matter to him that the child wasn't his and that he would love them both unconditionally. He promised to keep them both safe until it was all over, even though Kyouko knew she didn't deserve such kindness.

And so, Kyouko was hidden away with the excuse of a terrible illness, shielded from the public's prying eyes behind the thick walls of the palace. After all, Southern Water Tribe culture was still ingrained in the ways of the past. If word got out that the future chieftain's wife was pregnant before their marriage and because of an affair, the people would riot for her removal.

After six long months of waiting, a baby boy was born with skin as pale as snow and raven-black hair. He was a beautiful child, precious in that way that all babies are even though he was clearly not born of two Water Tribe parents.

Shirou found no trouble in loving the child, cooing softly at those tiny, grasping hands that stretched up to his face when the midwife handed the small bundle to him. His gaze remained soft as he stared at the baby that had no blood relation to him, and he still kissed that baby's forehead with the pride of a real father.

Kyouko, on the other hand, couldn't bring herself to feel the same parental affection. She didn't feel the rush of loving emotion people said she would when the baby was placed on her chest, just seconds after coming into the world. She didn't cry upon hearing her son's first sobbing breaths. She couldn't feel warmth settle in her heart when she saw her son's face.

Because when she looked at that baby, all she saw was the Fire Nation man she'd met along the harbour so long ago. She could only see the remnants of her mistake in those innocent features, the resemblance so striking that she couldn't bear to look at him.

It was Shirou who ended up naming the child. "Izaya," he whispered softly as he gently rocked the sobbing baby in his arms. It was an odd name for a baby, with an even stranger character spelling, but Shirou had always had eccentric tastes. "Izaya," Shirou soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby's snow-white forehead, without a care in the world for the contrast of their colours. A part of Kyouko felt jealous of Shirou's relationship with the child. But for the most part, she felt cooly indifferent about the baby's presence.

Shirou -- after being deemed the more mentally stable of Izaya's parents -- decided to limit Izaya's contact with people outside of his trusted circle. Only a handful of Shirou's most faithful servants and the midwife who helped deliver him knew of Izaya's existence. But Shirou knew that he wouldn't be able to keep Izaya a secret forever. So, when Izaya turned two, Shirou chose to give custody of the baby to the military. 

It may not have seemed like the best decision on the surface, but the Southern Water Tribe's army had a classified program in place. It was meant to raise and train orphans into the perfect soldiers for the safety and betterment of the country. This way, Izaya would be kept safe under the military's protection. All of his paperwork would be made confidential, meaning that no one would be able to trace Izaya to the royal family. But most of all, it would mean that Izaya would remain close to home, so if Shirou(and Kyouko when she was ready) wanted to see him, they could.

Eventually, the day came for Izaya to be sent off to a compound along the outskirts of the Southern Water Tribe Capital.

Kyouko -- after mustering the energy to pull herself out of bed and make herself presentable -- watched with weary eyes as Izaya, now a toddler walked beside Shirou. His steps were still a little unsure, and he clung to Shirou's hand like a lifeline as he waddled forward. He was dressed down in civilian clothing, looking entirely out of place in the ornate halls of the palace.

She trailed behind them, gazing down at the boy as she wondered when he'd gotten so big. Sure, she hadn't been feeling well for a while, but she hadn't realized how much Izaya had grown. Kyouko watched the child glance curiously behind him a few times. His reddish eyes were a tell-tale marker of his Fire Nation Heritage. 

But his gaze was so innocent, and when he flashed her a shy smile before ducking behind Shirou's arm, Kyouko forgot why she resented the child.

They eventually made their way to the harbour, a long line of docks spanning the length of it. Off to one side was a small military vessel, bobbing slowly in the waves. As they approached, a tall man stepped off and onto the dock, bowing deeply.

"Young Chieftain Shirou, Lady Kyouko," he said formally. "I am here to escort the child in question to the Qanuk military compound as per your orders."

Shirou nodded before getting down on one knee to face Izaya, who was staring in awe at the ship. He'd probably never seen a real one before, Kyouko thought. 

"Izaya," Shirou said gently, turning the boy's face. "You're going to go with this man, ok?"

Kyouko knew the boy didn't understand a word Shirou was saying. But when Shirou placed a final kiss to his forehead, wrapped him up in one last hug, and stepped back, Izaya surely knew what was coming. Izaya whined softly and made a short grabby motion for Shirou to pick him up. His doe-eyes welled up with tears, and a hiccuped cry followed when Shirou didn't move to comfort him, and Kyouko felt her heart shatter.

In the end, Kyouko could only watch the man gently lead the crying child onto the boat. She closed her eyes when the engine sputtered to life and began drifting away from the dock. 

As Izaya's wails grew quieter, Kyouko couldn't help the nagging feeling that she'd made another mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while, but I'm still here!
> 
> EDIT!!! May 2, 2020  
> So, I changed a few things about Izaya's character. Nothing too drastic, just enough to make his character seem more realistic to the setting & the vibe I'm trying to give off.

_"Go away, ghost!" A young Izaya flinched when a shard of ice was lobbed at his head. It arced clumsily through the air, hitting his shoulder with a dull thump before clattering to the ground. Even though it didn't hurt, Izaya felt tears well up in his eyes and threaten to spill over his chubby cheeks._

_It was afternoon playtime, and they were in the corner of Qanuk's playfield. There were only a handful of other children, running about and practicing what little bending they knew with minimal supervision._

_Usually, Izaya spent his playtime in the compound's library, content to have his books as company than people. The small Qanuk library became Izaya's sanctuary, where he didn't need to worry about abuse from the other kids or the scornful glares of the soldiers._

_It became Izaya's source of knowledge; the shelves upon shelves of dusty documents and peeling texts teaching him all about the world and the fascinating people that lived in it. They taught Izaya about the profundity of human nature, and showed just how intricate the mind could be. They gave him answers for every question Izaya asked, and gently explained to him why the people around him treated him the way they did._

_What's more, the books in Izaya's tiny haven became his story tellers, regaling tales of larger than life characters with even larger personalities. They were all filled with depth and more humanity than any of the stuffy military officers ever had. Izaya found solace in those stories, as they reminded him that there_ were _interesting people in the world. He just hadn't met them yet._

_If Izaya could, he would spend hours pouring over the hundreds of books shelved in that tiny library._ _But today, one of the senior officers found him reading between the aisles. He accused Izaya of snooping through private documents, snatched the books from his small hands, and forcefully dragged him to the play area where he was being cornered. As usual, none of the privates that were instructed to watch the kids were taking their job seriously, bunking off with each other and smoking where the cameras wouldn't see them._

_Another kid roughly pushed Izaya's shoulder, making him stumble sideways. "Yeah, go away, freak," the child crowed, leering down at Izaya with as much intensity as an eight-year-old could manage. Which, to Izaya, who had only recently turned five, was absolutely terrifying. "Go back to wherever you died and stay there! We don't want a ghost to come back!"_

_"I'm not a ghost," Izaya shouted, feeling the tears he had been trying so hard to keep back fall. "Stop calling me that!"_

_"I'll call you whatever I want, ghost," the boy hissed, shoving Izaya to the ground. "I'm just saying what you are, stop being such a crybaby about it." Izaya moved to push himself back up, but the boy forced him back to the ground. "No one here likes you," he snarled, "you're weird, and a freak and everyone knows it. Do us a favour and go back to hiding in your cave, light-skin!"_

_Unable to take it anymore, Izaya threw out his arm, sending a deadly-sharp spike of ice at the boy's face. The boy yelped and threw himself back, his lip splitting open when the knife-sharp point slashed at the delicate skin. "Stay away from me!" Izaya screamed, melting the ice nearby to form a protective ring of water around his body._

_"Freak!" another girl shouted, bending a loose snowball at his face. "Go away!"_

_"Freak!" they all began to chant, screaming and pointing accusatory fingers at him. "Go away! Go away! Go away!"_

* * *

The piercing shriek of an alarm startled Izaya awake and out of his nightmare. Adrenaline flooded his veins, eating up the sleepy exhaustion to leave him wide-eyed and awake.

It wasn't often that he dreamt during his sleep, let alone of Qanuk. He had been transferred out when he was nine and brought out to Apitu, a remote compound closer to the Capital. 

Apitu was a far larger military base than Qanuk, filled with adults that generally respected Izaya's mixed heritage, and, for the most part, recognized his talent. From what Izaya had gathered, only the children who showed the most skill and promise were shipped out to Apitu, and even then, some were sent away because they just couldn't cut it.

After his transfer, Izaya mostly blocked out memories from his time at Qanuk. But every once in a while, they resurfaced, putting a sour taste in the back of his mouth. 

Of course, Izaya never let himself linger on those thoughts. Instead, he internalized them in the only way he knew how: explaining them away as acts of human psychology. Those kids that used to bully him? They only did it because they were insecure about their bending abilities. Insecurity and dissatisfaction of themselves made them lash out, and they directed their anger toward him because it was the most convenient. And although it was predictable, Izaya still found it kind of fun to watch this part of human nature at play.

Sighing softly, Izaya pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. In the bed above his, he heard his roommate -- the only other child left in Apitu -- stir but not wake up. Izaya rolled his eyes. _'He never gets up on time.'_

With an effort, Izaya pushed the blankets off and stumbled to the alarm and keypad on the other side of the room. Izaya cringed away when the alarm's blaring grew louder, growing in volume with each second it stayed on.

Putting his right hand over one ear, Izaya quickly punched in the six-digit code to turn the noise off, breathing a sigh of relief when the angry red light on the keypad turned green. He turned to glower at his lump of a roommate, laying still beneath his blankets.

"Tsukumoya," he hissed with about as much ferocity as a ten-year-old could muster. He flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights, hoping it would disturb Tsukumoya enough to get him moving. But the older boy didn't even shift, his steady breathing undisturbed. "Get up." Grabbing his pillow, Izaya climbed up the ladder to Tsukumoya's bunk and struck the vaguely human-shaped lump beneath the covers.

A low groan came from under the covers. "Stop..." A hand escaped the nest of blankets to blindly push the pillow away. "Too early..."

"No, it's not," Izaya said, punctuating his words with another harsh thwack of the pillow. "It's already 5:30." Finally, with one last hit, Tsukumoya pushed the covers off his head to glare at Izaya. His silvery hair was sticking up in places from the static, and there was a tacky line of drool trailing down his chin. Izaya scrunched his nose in disgust and hopped off the other's bed. "Get out of bed, you slacker."

"Quit trying to boss me around," Tsukumoya said as he scrubbed a hand over his face. "Respect your elders."

_'I'm only two years younger than you!'_ Izaya wanted to say, but instead, he offered Tsukumoya a smirk over his shoulder. "Elders? I don't see any elders here."

"When I'm finally out of this hellhole, I'm gonna write a book all about how shit this place is, and I'll be documenting _your_ abuse the most!" Tsukumoya grumbled, but Izaya paid him no mind. 

He didn't have time to listen to Tsukumoya ramble about his non-existent book. He had to get to the mess hall for the newspaper. Izaya didn't have newspaper privileges, but he knew someone who would give it to him. He just needed to get to the canteen before he got rid of it.

By the time he came back from the joined bathroom, Tsukumoya was still lazily struggling to haul himself out of bed. Izaya rolled his eyes but didn't bother him. If Tsukumoya wanted to be stupid in the morning, who was Izaya to stop him?

Izaya quickly changed into the standard issued uniform, carefully tying the sarashi around his torso before pulling on a plain navy tunic, embroidered with his name and rank. He tucked the loose edge of the shirt into the waistband of his baggy black breeches, pulling the drawstring tight. Finally, he pulled on a pair of shin-high boots, the soft fur trim brushing against his hands as he wound the laces into a tight knot. "I'm going first," Izaya said as he grabbed his too-big jacket from out of the closet. "Don't miss the morning briefing again."

Izaya didn't bother waiting for Tsukumoya's grunt of a reply. Instead, he slung his jacket over his shoulders and raced down the hall to the canteen. 

The mess hall was already packed with soldiers when Izaya slipped through its doors. The air was filled with idle chatter and the bland smell of the white slop they called breakfast. A short line of people was qued across the right wall, waiting with trays in hand to be served their disgusting morning meal.

But Izaya paid them no mind, instead weaving through the lines of tables to where a group of three men were seated.

"Izaya," one of them greeted, setting down the newspaper in his hands. He shifted over slightly and patted the space beside him. "Here for the paper again?"

Izaya shot him a grin before sitting down next to him. "Can't I come over to visit a friend, Kyoda?" he asked innocently, sitting down next to him. The man snorted disbelievingly before tossing Izaya the wrinkled paper, which he eagerly grabbed.

"Take it, you brat." Ignoring the jab, Izaya flipped through the flimsy pages, his mind slowly absorbing the information printed on it.

"Ma, Kyoda, you gotta stop spoiling the kid," one of the other men, Vacomm, remarked. He ruffled Izaya's hair, "Boys like him shouldn't be obsessing over the paper, that's adult stuff!" Izaya jerked away from the other man, smoothing his hair back in place. He hated it when people touched him, especially when he was unprepared. "Besides, it's not like there's anything good in there anyway." 

"Not true," Izaya huffed. "There's tons of useful information in this." Of course, not _everything_ was interesting, but any glimpse of gossip or big news was more than enough to catch Izaya's attention. Besides, it was nice to have a change of pace every once in a while. If Izaya had to deal with the same muscle-head idiots everyday with nothing to break up the monotony of it, he would drive himself up the wall!

"Like what," the third man, Inuksuk, scoffed good-naturedly. "There's nothing good in the media these days."

Izaya held up the newspaper's front page. "The chieftain's wife is making her first official public appearance in over a decade," he read, holding up the paper and pointing to the picture of the Chief and Lady Kyouko. "Despite being gone for such a long time, she still holds some political power. She'll have a say over policies that could bring us to war. It'll be interesting to see how her input will change things." Inuksuk wilted a bit at Izaya's response, sighing before taking a bite of the squid jerky on his tray.

"This is why kids like you and Tsukumoya aren't allowed to get the newspaper."

Izaya glowered vehemently at the man, discreetly sticking his tongue out at him before ducking his head back down to read the paper. He never liked Kyoda's group. They were aways too touchy-feely for his comfort, and they were always speaking down at him as if he was a child. Even when they knew he could hold his own in a sparring match, they still treated him like some wet-behind-the-ears kid!

He huffed under his breath, Izaya internally debated the pros and cons of challenging Inuksuk to a spar after breakfast. But there was the sound of boots scuffing against the linoleum floor behind him, and a voice that said, "Izaya." He turned and found the Sergeant Major standing over him. "Why are you in your uniform? Were you not briefed about today?" the Sergeant asked sharply, his cold eyes leering down at Izaya.

"No, sir," Izaya responded calmly, meeting the man's eyes. The Sergeant Major was one of the most intimidating men in Apitu, and he seemed to have a particular hatred for Izaya.

"Get into your civilian clothes," he ordered. "I'll be expecting you at the docks at 9. Even though you have downtime, you are not to go to training under any circumstances, do you understand?" He waited for Izaya to nod before promptly turning on his heel and marching away.

* * *

Izaya sat at the very edge of one of Apitu's many docks, swinging his legs idly as he waited for... well, whatever he was waiting for. The Sergeant's instructions had been short and snappy, as they always were, giving Izaya no indication of what he was doing. Tsukumoya had called him lucky, complaining on and on about how he didn't get a day off too. But Izaya wasn't so sure. For all he knew, there could be a boat coming to take him away from this place.

To take his mind off things, Izaya carefully bent the water flowing at his feet. He created slight currents that were nearly undetectable to the small arctic koi swimming in it, trapping them in a slow incline toward the surface. When they got close enough, Izaya clenched his hands into a fist, trapping them in a ball of ice.

He brought his newest catch to the light, inspecting its orange and white scales through the ice. _'How boring,'_ he thought, unfreezing the centre with careful precision to allow the fish to dart about in its prison. The fish stared stupidly at him for a second, its mouth opening and closing as if it were pleading for its life.

Frowning with disgust, Izaya unfroze the fish from is icy prison, forming a ball of water in mid-air. Against the sky, Izaya couldn't help but think the fish was flying. He played around with it for a while, watching the underbelly of the fish swim through the air. But eventually, that too bored him. So, he condensed the ball, and with a sweeping motion of his arm, evaporated the water into steam. Unharmed, the koi fell back into the ocean. Izaya just barely caught a glimpse of those glittering scales as it darted back into deeper water.

"Izaya." The sharp call of the Sergeant Major was startling enough to nearly send him into the sea. "Stand."

Masking a scowl behind indifference, Izaya obeyed, smoothing out the crinkles in his civilian clothes. Looking out onto the horizon, Izaya spotted a dark shape moving swiftly toward the docks. It was a small military cruiser made of dark, matte metal, utterly silent as it glided through the water. They were vessels reserved for the Capital's navy, specifically the royal family.

"Mind your tongue when they arrive," the Sergeant hissed, straightening his back, so the medals adorning his chest caught the light. "I don't need you acting like a spoiled brat when you're in their company."

The boat slowed as it neared, coming to a full stop alongside the dock. From within the hanger, Izaya could see the shadows of people weaving in and out of the tinted windows. Finally, a man stepped out.

Izaya's posture went stiff when he saw the man's face. It was the same one that he'd seen on the paper that morning. Not knowing what to do, Izaya ducked his head into a respectful bow.

"Chieftain Shirou," the Sergeant said, bowing low like Izaya. "Welcome back to Apitu. It's a pleasure to have you back, sir."

Chief Shirou smiled and nodded, waving his hand in an indication that they could stop, but even then, Izaya couldn't bring himself to straighten his back. A rough prod in his side from the Sergeant, however, forced him to. "Yes, it's always a delight to visit. It's a shame that I won't be staying too long; however, I have confidence that your leadership hasn't led anything astray."

"Of course, sir," the Sergeant said, preening at the praise. "I have brought Izaya as per your request."

There was suddenly a cold hand bracing his shoulder, pushing him toward the chief, making Izaya stumble. Izaya looked up at the chief, stunned, unable to maintain his neutral mask. _'Why is he here for_ me _?!'_

Chief Shirou's gaze softened when he met Izaya's, a warm smile creeping onto his face as he knelt, so they were eye-level to each other. "Izaya," he murmured, "It's very nice to meet you." He held out his hand for Izaya to shake, which he took hesitantly. "You're going to be coming with me today," he said gently, nodding back to the boat. "How does that sound?"

How _did_ it sound? Izaya wasn't too sure. If Izaya was anyone else, he was sure he would be jumping to the chance, but it just sounded tedious to Izaya. But it wasn't as if Izaya had any say in the matter if the glare burning into the back of his head was any indication. So he nodded slightly, keeping his gaze low as a show of respect.

He watched in fascination as the tension in the Chief's shoulders eased, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. "Good," he said, holding his hand out for Izaya to take. "Come along, then. The boat ride is a little long."

Internally grimacing, Izaya grabbed the man's hand and boarded the boat.

* * *

As Shirou said, the boat ride had indeed been long. The problem was probably exacerbated by Shirou continually trying to make conversation. He kept prodding at Izaya to talk, asking him about how his morning was and breakfast.

But ultimately, the annoyance was worth it when the boat docked at the Capital. Izaya watched in awe as the endless expanse of water and ice transformed into an urban cityscape. There were more buildings that Izaya had ever seen in his life, and all of them were taller than he thought possible. Long rows of docks stretched out from the marina, filled to the brim with boats of all shapes and sizes. 

But most exciting of all were the people, hundreds of thousands of them just along the harbour. Izaya had never seen this many people gathered together in his life, and the thought of being among them was enough to make his heart jump with excitement.

Such a large city like this one had to be home to thousands -- maybe _millions_ \-- of people, all with different jobs and quirks and cultures! It was practically begging for Izaya to pick it apart!

"What do you think, Izaya?" Chief Shirou asked, making Izaya turn away from the window.

"It's amazing, sir," Izaya answered honestly, unable to keep the giddiness from his voice.

The Chief chuckled softly, "You don't have to call me sir while you're here with me," he said warmly. "You can just call me Shirou." 

Suppressing a frown, Izaya nodded. He didn't feel particularly comfortable acting so familiar with the Chieftain. It filled him with unease as much as it piqued his curiosity. But Izaya knew better than to disobey the highest power in the country, so he gritted his teeth and bore with it.

Just before they got off the cruiser, the Chieftain pulled on a bland-looking jacket and a pair of sunglasses that obscured his eyes. 

"I'm going incognito today, so don't give me away." Shirou winked behind his glasses in what Izaya could only assume was a playful gesture. But only young children would find something so simple entertaining.

They disembarked the cruiser on a military dock just south of the palace. Izaya could see the gleaming dome of the centre like a giant mirror reflecting the sun for all to see.

The Chief led Izaya through the paths of the navy base until they reached a pedestrian street. It was split into a long road for cars and other vehicles, and a wide channel of water for boats to pass through. There were a few earthbending maintenance workers further up the street, fixing paved roads and sidewalks. Since the Capital was built atop a constantly moving glacier, this type of maintenance was needed year-round.

Shirou led Izaya through the streets to a small cafe on the corner of a city block. It was quaint and smelled heavily of coffee and baked confectionaries.

"Sit down," Shirou urged, draping his jacket over the back of a tall chair. "I'll go order some stuff, my treat. Is there anything you want? Maybe a hot chocolate or a pastry?"

Izaya just hummed, more focused on taking in his surroundings more than listening to Shirou. He'd been waiting for an opportunity like this since he was a kid! Izaya would likely never get another chance to observe people outside of the stuffy Apitu environment, so he was intent on soaking every detail while he could. "A coffee is fine, thank you, without cream or sugar, please." Shirou looked surprised for a moment but didn't push the subject.

With Shirou's presence gone, Izaya could finally pay full attention to the cafe. It was busy, with people filling the booths and tables. The air was filled with the low humming of voices and the occasional whirring of the coffee machine in the back. An old couple was sitting by the window, the man reading the paper while the woman fiddled with the handle of her cup. Their fingers were interlocked in the middle of the table, a small display of affection that showed years of intimacy.

Near the back, Izaya could see a group of girls that were a little bit older than Tsukumoya, giggling about something or the other. But there was a falseness to the sound, ringing sourly in the air. He could hear thinly-veiled contempt in one of their voices, and suddenly, their table went silent. But then, one of them spoke, her words doused in so much sugar that Izaya _needed_ to know more.

But, Shirou was coming back already, balancing two mugs and a plate of something spongy and filled with raspberries.

"Tada!" Shirou placed set down a small cup in front of Izaya. "Premium coffee plus delivery, all for free," he joked, and Izaya gave him a small smile, hoping that it would placate the man. _'Is this what he wants? Does he want me to laugh at his horrible humour?'_ "So, Izaya, how are things at Apitu?" Shirou asked, taking a sip of his drink and looking at Izaya expectantly.

"It's fine," Izaya answered curtly, feeling his focus drift back toward the table where the girls were once again chatting amongst themselves as if nothing had happened.

"Just fine? What are you learning there? How is training? You know, you have to be very talented to get to Apitu."

Izaya glanced up over the rim of his mug before setting it down. "We were practicing bending steam," he said quietly. He lifted his finger to demonstrate, bending the steam rising over his mug into circular swirls in the air. With a snap of his fingers, Izaya turned the steam into a rice-sized grain of rice, placing it in front of Shirou. "Mainly deposition and evaporation."

"That's amazing!" Shirou praised, lifting the fast-melting piece of ice. "I don't think _I_ can do that!" He gave Izaya a smile. "I'm very proud of you."

The warmth in his eyes was unnerving to Izaya, and not for the first time today, he wondered if the man had some sort of ulterior motive. Izaya wasn't stupid. He knew what sick, powerful men could do to young boys.

"With all due respect, sir, what are you doing here with me?" Izaya looked him straight in the eye, studying the man's face and reactions carefully. This man may have been more interesting than anyone else he had met before, but Izaya knew to tread with caution. "I'm sure you have better things to do than to look over me. I know I do."

Shirou's smile began to falter. "...Are you not happy to be here?" he asked quietly. His voice was small, and it didn't sound like he wanted to know the answer to his own question. His eyes looked hurt, and the crease in his brow was too realistic to be anything but genuine.

"I'm not unhappy, I just don't understand. Why would you go out of your way to bring me here?"

Shirou sighed, looking around the room cautiously before leaning in closer. "I'm going to tell you something that must stay between the two of us, ok? It's a secret that could get both of us in trouble." Shirou's tone was low and serious, catching Izaya's attention in an instant. Feeling his heart quicken with excitement, Izaya nodded. "I knew your parents." Izaya felt his heart skip in his chest, thudding loudly trough his ears and thrumming beneath his skin. "They... found themselves in a bit of trouble a few years back, and decided to place you under the watch of the military instead."

Izaya could only stare wide-eyed at Shirou, stunned from what he'd just heard. He had _parents_! People he could call mother and father, like the characters in books he'd read when he was younger! "Where are they!" Izaya asked, feeling breathless.

"Oh, Izaya." The pity in Shirou's voice made Izaya's stomach plummet. "...They aren't here." The excitement that had once been boiling over in Izaya's stomach was quickly replaced with the hollow feeling of disappointment. 

_'Of course,"_ he thought, _"Why did I expect anything else?'_

"Why not?" Izaya asked meekly, feeling small and helpless. "If they're not dead, why can't they be here to see me?" He felt like a petulant child, something he promised himself he was not.

"Oh, Izaya..." Shirou opened and closed his mouth several times, at a loss for words. "They just can't. There's no good explanation for why, but you have to understand that they just... can't be here with you."

He felt pain shoot through his chest and moisture gather in the corners of his eyes. He shouldn't care as much as did. Those people should mean nothing to him. It wasn't as if he had any emotional attachment to them, so _why did it hurt so damn much?_ "Did they even want me?" Shirou's face fell apart, revealing sadness, then pity, then pain. But most curious of all, Izaya saw guilt in his eyes, so overwhelming in its intensity that it ate away at some of his disappointment to leave suspicion.

"Of course, they wanted you, Izaya," he said fiercely, grabbing Izaya's hand and squeezing it tight. "They wanted you so much, they just couldn't keep you without getting you in trouble." His voice cracked mid-sentence, and Shirou had to clear his throat a few times before he spoke again. "They love you so much, and if they could be here for your birthday, I know they would be."

Izaya blinked in surprise. "Birthday?" he asked with a cock of his head. "Is that today?" He never kept track of his birthdays before. Back in Qanuk, on kids' birthdays, they might get a second fruit cup for dessert or an extra half-hour of playtime. In Apitu, sometimes your birthday meant getting alcohol or a visit from family. But birthdays were usually never given much more attention than that.

"Yes, it's your birthday. You're turning eleven today." He pushed the forgotten plate of spongy dessert toward Izaya. "Congratulations, Izaya." He still had that pained expression on his face, and his eyes were a watery red. But he looked more composed than before. "I got his cake, and it's all for you."

Izaya glances down at the cake in front of him. It looked like two pieces of sponge, slathered in a thick white coating and filled with a blood-red filling. Frankly, it looked rather unappetizing.

But the lemony-tart smell coming off of it made Izaya's mouth water, so he gingerly took the fork and poked into it. "I've never had cake before," he murmured, dipping his fork into the pasty-white coating. "What is it?"

Shirou looked surprised for a moment before saying, "It's a baked dessert. People usually eat it on special occasions. They come in all different kinds of flavours, but this one is lemon with raspberry jam and cream cheese frosting." He leaned back a bit in his chair, taking a sip of his own drink. "I think you'll like it."

Cutting away a small piece slathered in red jam and frosting, Izaya took a bite. The sweetness crashed over his tongue the second that the cake passed his lips, dousing his mouth with the taste of sugar. His nose wrinkled and he shook his head, dropping the fork. "Bleh," he sputtered after swallowing. "It's too sweet!"

Shirou's grin grew wider, and he let out a warm laugh. "Really?" he huffed, his voice filled with mirth. "Is it that bad?"

"Yes, it's horrible." Izaya took a long sip of his coffee to clean his palate.

Shirou laughed, loud and contagious. It was bright and warm, and Izaya had never heard a sound so comforting in his life.

Before Izaya knew it, he found himself giggling along.

* * *

"So?" Tsukumoya asked, shoving his clothes drawer closed. He didn't sound as bitter as Izaya expected him to. "What was so important that you had to miss training?" Ah, there it was.

"Don't tell anyone," Izaya started, moving to sit at the headboard of his bed. "Chief Shirou came to see me." Tsukumoya raised a disbelieving brow. "It's true!" Izaya insisted. "He took me to the Capital. He said it was my birthday gift! He got me a _cake._ " Izaya decided to leave out the fact that cake was disgusting to prove his point.

"Seriously?" Tsukumoya sat next to Izaya, leaning against the ladder of the bunk bed. "Holy shit. Why?"

Izaya shrugged, fiddling with the edges of his blanket. "He said he knew my parents." Izaya thought there was more to it than that -- almost all of the Chief's actions screamed that he knew more than what he was letting on -- but he didn't tell Tsukumoya that.

Tsukumoya hummed softly, ruffling his half-damp silver locks.

"You probably shouldn't get used to it," Tsukumoya warned. "I doubt he'll bring you out again. He was probably just doing it out of guilt or obligation."

Izaya pulled the blankets tighter around his body, closing his eyes. "I know that.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Shirou _did_ visit again. Multiple times, in fact.

A year and a half after Shirou's first visit, the man was still coming once a season, bringing Izaya to the Capital just to spend the day together. 

Of course, Izaya still had his suspicions. Izaya was convinced that the Chieftain had something to hide when it came to his parents and Shirou's relationship to them, but as each visit passed, he found himself caring less and less about it. He was enjoying himself, finding contentment in something other than his psychology books or the reactions of people around him. He'd even begun looking forward to his seasonal outings to the big city.

Today, Izaya was in a particularly good mood. Shirou would be visiting in a week for the holidays, and it was a visit that Izaya had been anticipating for a while. The holidays were always an interesting time, filled with both joy and overwhelming stress. Izaya found it amusing to watch people rush from store to store in search of a gift that would probably be meaningless anyway.

And, as an added bonus, they were doing unregulated sparring today. That meant that you could do just about anything in the ring, as long as you subdue your opponent in the end. 

Out of all the grueling training they did in Apitu, Izaya loved these unregulated fights the most. In that sparring ring, Izaya could do whatever he wanted without having to worry about penalties. He could play as dirty as he wanted to, forming ice knives that could be thrown with deadly precision and weaving traps for his opponent to fall right into. Plus, it was always fun watching the other men spar, airing out their dirty laundry where everyone could watch.

Izaya hummed softly to himself as he watched from the edges of the room. Tsukumoya was in one of the rings, struggling to fend off the constant barrage of attacks from Kyoda, his opponent. He wondered why Tsumuoya didn't just freeze everything to gain some distance, then again, Tsukumoya had never been the best bender. Though he could hold his own fairly well in a fight, Tsukumoya's real talents shone when he got behind a computer screen. The other boy had a knack for anything cyber-related, digging up information from even the most private of documents with the same ease as Izaya subduing an opponent.

Eventually, watching Tsukumoya struggle to gain footing against Kyoda grew boring, and Izaya found his gaze wandering to the rest of the room. A few other pairs were sparring in other rings, some of them trading blows faster than Izaya could idly pay attention to.

On the opposite side of the expansive gym, Izaya noticed two men smoking in a corner below a gusting air vent. The shorter one's face was blown red with anger, spittle flying from his mouth as he ranted on and on to the man next to him.

Feeling his interest pique, Izaya slinked carefully over. He leaned against a nearby wall, getting close enough to eavesdrop without being seen by his seniors.

"You're serious?" the taller one asks, raising an eyebrow and flicking away a glowing piece of ash from the end of the foul-smelling cigarette.

"Course I'm being fuckin' serious," the other man spat, angrily raking a hand through his scruffy head of hair. "The bitch cheated on me! She got knocked up with a kid that isn't even fuckin' mine! That lying bitch... three years of marriage, all f'this shit!" 

Izaya raised an eyebrow, scooting just slightly closer to listen better. _'An affair, huh?'_ he hummed in his mind.

The taller man patted him on the back consolingly, lighting his friend a new cigarette. "Are you sure it's not yours? I mean, you never know."

The shorter man took a long drag of his cigarette, breathing the smoke out slowly through his nose. "The kid looks nothin' like me," he muttered, nibbling at the butt of the cigarette. "It looks like it's from the Earth Kingdom. Looks dark s'all hell... And get this, the whore even tried t'get me to sign the birth certificate!"

"So, what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm fuckin' leavin' that cheatin' skank," he snarled. "Thank god we signed a prenup before this."

"What about the kid?"

"What _about_ the kid?" the man asked incredulously. "Hell if I'm payin' child support when I'm not even the father! That thing's not my problem, it's hers. She can do whatever the fuck she wants with it." He nudged his friend's ribs, "She can throw it into the military if she really wants to." The two men chuckled with far more mirth than the crude joke allowed for.

Izaya felt something cold run down his spine. Something about the man's words didn't fit well in Izaya's stomach. Unnerving suspicion began to pool in his gut, making his palms grow sweaty and the world spin with lightheadedness. Without a second thought, Izaya pushed himself up from the wall and walked over to the two men.

"Hey," he called, grabbing their attention. The glowers he received were intimidating, but it did nothing to stop him.

"The hell do you want, Izaya?" The shorter man blew smoke from his cigarette into Izaya's face, making his eyes burn. "Can't you see we're having adult conversations here?"

"Is that true?" Izaya demanded, ignoring the condescending tone.

"Is what true?" the taller one sniffed.

"That the kids brought into the military are born from infidelity?"

The taller one's eyes narrowed and he leaned to stare down at Izaya. "Listen, kid. These are _adult_ affairs. Now run along, and-"

"Wait, Mukwa." The shorter stuck out his hand to stop the man. He leaned down to address Izaya. "What do you think, brat?"

Izaya didn't _want_ to think about what he was thinking! He didn't want to believe that the sinking suspicion growing in his stomach was true. "It isn't out of the realm of possibility," Izaya replied cooly, his voice remarkably steady despite the growing tremor in his fingers. "Are there?"

The man snorted. "Of course there fuckin' are," he barked. "What, you think all of you are just sad little orphans? I bet half of you weren't wanted. Affair babies, the lot of you." At that point, the man was practically spitting in Izaya's face from the force of his yelling. His face was flushed red with rage, and Izaya took a decisive step back to mull over the newfound information.

_'So, there_ are _kids in the military because they came from affairs. I'm going to have to assume that's true for now. But we were all told that the reason why we were in the military was for our own safety. That there were people on the outside that would hurt us if they knew we existed. So, what if one of us is a product of an affair between a mistress and some powerful man, high on the political or economic food chain. That would be a scandal of seismic proportions, especially if the child ended up being that of mixed race...'_

A cold shudder ran down Izaya's spine. His every instinct was telling him to stop thinking, to let this thought go. But once the cogs in his mind began to turn, there was no stopping them. _'Could I be the product of an affair between the Chieftain and some Fire Nation woman?'_ He shook his head, pinching the skin in the back of his hand. _'No, there's no way... But it_ would _explain his odd desire to see me. And why he's hiding things from me... No! I refuse to think about this! Besides, this information would all be on my records... Right?'_

His stomach filling with dread, Izaya turned on his heel and hurried over to Tsukumoya's sparring ring. He could probably finish the task himself within a week or two, but Izaya didn't have the time. He would need an extra set of hands.

Tsukumoya was still in the middle of his fight when Izaya rushed over. He was panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face as he barely managed to ward off Kyoda's attacks. Knowing that the match was going nowhere, Izaya decided to give Tsukumoya a bit of a boost. With a discreet twitch of his finger, Izaya snaked a long river of water from the grates under the sparring arena. It silently crept across the linoleum floors before wrapping around Kyoda's ankle, freezing it into a solid block of ice, and pulled his feet right from under him. 

Exhausted, Tsukumoya flopped bonelessly over Kyoda's fallen form, coughing as he audibly struggled to regain control of his breathing. With the fight(if you could even call it that) over, Izaya forced the netted door open, grabbed Tsukumoya's wrist, and bodily dragged him from the sparring gym.

It was easier to breathe out in the hallway. Fewer people and less water around meant the halls were cool and dry, the air no longer suffocating with cold humidity.

"Thanks... for that thing... at the end," Tsukumoya gasped, leaning his head back. "I don't know if I would've been able to last much longer."

"Tsukumoya, is it possible to get a hold of personal files?" Tsukumoya raised a brow at him questioningly. "Can you hack into the main system here and get a hold of everyone's personal files?"

"You mean normal ones? Yeah, definitely. You could probably just go directly to the records office if you really need to."

"But say hypothetically people had classified information on their file, would that be on their record?"

Tsukumoya thought about it for a second. "It would probably be voided out, if not completely gone. But with a bit of digging, it might be possible to access Capital servers from out here and get all that data." He pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. "But what the hell do you need that for?"

Izaya bit his lip. He didn't really _need_ to know. Quite honestly, there would be no point even if it turned out to be true. It wasn't like Izaya was powerful enough to do anything about it. And yet he knew that if he left the thought alone, the suspicion would eventually consume him, he just knew it.

So he held his breath, steeling himself before saying, "I need you to do me a favour."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's dawned on me that Izaya's part will probably be a bit longer than Shizuo's. His arc is more plot-heavy, and it also serves to flesh out the world outside Ikebukuro, so expect maybe a chapter more than Shizuo's(sorry Shizuo, but it had to be done)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I swear this was supposed to be out yesterday
> 
> Special thanks to @KariHigada for helping me out with the outline! A billion thanks to you, friend!!!

The icy wind howled and snarled in Izaya's ears, sinking its cold claws deep into his skin. The skies were dark, with only the tiniest sliver of sun to illuminate the winter afternoon. And though the sky was clear, Izaya could feel the onset of a storm on the horizon. Rather appropriate weather, in Izaya's opinion.

He sat on the edge of the dock, his gloved hands tapping incessantly against the wood. His patience was beginning to wear thin, and he wanted nothing more than to scream out into the open ocean in front of him. But he kept his cool, slowing his breathing to an even pace to maintain some semblance of composure.

All of Izaya's inner turmoil stemmed from the bland manila folder pressed close to his chest, half-hidden by his too-big jacket. That folder contained the fruits of a week's worth of research(something he _definitely_ owed Tsukumoya for), and a decade-old government secret: Izaya's very existence. It contained Izaya's true heritage, not as the Chieftain's lovechild, but his wife's.

If what was inside was to be believed... Well, Izaya wouldn't _know_ how to feel, how to react and respond in the right way. It shouldn't bother him as much as he did, but something about the fact that his mother never once bothered to visit him while Shirou, the man with no blood relation to him, always did bothered him to no end.

Noticing the lights of a black cruiser approaching in the distance, Izaya took another deep breath to prepare himself. ' _Stop thinking yourself in circles,'_ he scolded internally. Izaya straightened his back as much as he could against the buffeting wind and held up a hand in greeting, hoping that he didn't look too tense. _'Shirou will explain everything. It'll all make sense soon.'_

"Izaya!" Shirou greeted, yelling out his words so they could be heard over the wind. Not bothering to look for permission, Izaya hopped onto the cruiser's deck and ducked into the sheltered hanger. Once the heavy metal door closed, Izaya removed his hood and shook out his hair. Thank god it wasn't snowing on top of the wind. Izaya really didn't want to be cold _and_ wet right now.

Shirou chuckled at Izaya's dishevelled state. "Sorry about the wait. These winds are throwing everything off." He held out his hand for Izaya to shake, a small gesture the two of them picked up when Shirou realized Izaya didn't like getting too touchy with people. "How have you been?"

Izaya coughed to clear his throat and gingerly took Shizuo's hand. "I'm doing well," he answered through chattering teeth with a pleasant, perfectly-trained smile. "Or, at least as well as I can."

Shirou let out a hearty laugh and clapped Izaya on the shoulder. "That's good enough in my book." Izaya wanted to smile at the warmth in Shirou's tone, but knowing what he now knew... He wondered if this was some sort of plot, maybe some ruse to get back at his cheating wife. Izaya couldn't rule that out as a possibility. Shirou patted Izaya on the shoulder gently, bringing Izaya away from his suspicion and back to the present. "Shall we get going? The ride's going to be a bit longer than you're used to, so we'll have some time to catch up."

Perfect. Izaya gave him a smile and a nod. _'What convenient timing.'_ Shirou gave the order to the driver, and the engine purred to life.

For a few minutes, Shirou and Izaya caught up with one another. Izaya never had much to discuss; his painfully boring environment left him with limited stories to tell. But Shirou always listened to everything Izaya said with rapt attention. He looked vaguely concerned as Izaya told him about the web of rumours he was spinning in the minds of his fellow soldiers and his most recent poker game where he'd won the whole pot. But his focus never wavered.

"Your skill for meddling is unparalleled," Shirou chuckled. "I know it must be uneventful in Apitu, but you shouldn't cause too much trouble for your superiors. That eventually makes its way to me, you know."

Izaya hummed softly. "Well, maybe if my parents hadn't decided to leave me in such an unstable environment, I wouldn't feel the need to cause so much trouble." His eyes flashed when he saw Shirou wilt a bit at his words. "Speaking of my... _parents--_ " Izaya unzipped his coat just enough to pull out the manila folder "--I found a few interesting things the other day. I thought I'd share them with you." He tossed the folder to Shirou, leaning back in his seat when Shirou cautiously opened it.

Again, Shirou's composure began to crack, and his smile faltered into something of a grimace. He watched as Shirou's gaze scanned the document inside, his eyes slowly widening in horror as he realized what he was holding.

"Is it true?" Izaya asked quietly, folding his arms over his chest and hunching his shoulders, looking much like he was bracing for a blow. "There's no point in denying it now. But I want to hear it from you."

"Where did you get this?" Shirou demanded instead, his eyes flashing in something akin to anger. "These are highly confidential documents. You shouldn't have access to them."

"How I got them doesn't matter." Izaya crossed his legs and leaned forward, unintimidated by the anger growing in Shirou's gaze. "Am I Kyouko Dakelh's child?" Shirou hesitated for a second, his hands shaking from the vice-grip they had around the crinkling document. But then, Shirou sighed, his shoulders dropping into defeat and his whole face fell in shame. He nodded defeatedly.

"But Izaya, if you'd just let me explain-"

"I don't want an explanation from you," Izaya said coldly. "I want one from her." He bounced his foot restlessly as he tried to keep his cool. Shirou may already know how shaken Izaya was about the whole situation, but he didn't need to see it too. "I want to know why she never came for me. Why she sent her errand boy out each time instead of coming herself." 

Shirou narrowed his eyes at the insult. "Izaya, your mother--" Izaya cringed at the use of _mother_ "--may not be able to come see you, but I promise you, she wants to. She wants to know you and be a part of your life."

"Then let her tell me that herself. I have the right to go see her, don't I? If I'm her _son_." Izaya spat out the last, sour-tasting word.

Shirou frowned deeply, folding his hands over the crumpled documents in his lap. For a second, Izaya was sure that he was going to refuse, that he was going to turn the cruiser around, dump Izaya back in Apitu, and never visit again. But instead, he sighed, and while scrubbing a hand over his face, he capitulated to Izaya's demand.

* * *

When the cruiser finally arrived at the military dock, Shirou quickly led Izaya into the palace. Izaya had never been so close to the royal building before, and if he wasn't so tightly-wound with anticipation, he was sure he'd be slack-jawed in awe.

The Royal Palace was a magnificent building, an amazing feat of architecture that called to the South's long history, despite only being a few hundred years old. Even though it wasn't nearly as old as the Palace in Ba Sing Se, or the ancient Fire Temple on Crescent Island, there was a certain majesty to it. It commanded the respect of other nations, and it was what brought the Southern Water Tribe to the world stage as an equal. Izaya even dared to call it the world's 8th man-made wonder.

The inside was just as majestic as the outside. Long, ice-blue hallways made a maze of the palace, each leading to one of the thousand intricate and decorative rooms. The walls were lined with ceiling-high windows that held the most breath-taking view of the Capital. Intricate ice carvings were sprawled across the exterior, each detail so painstakingly delicate that they were practically gleaming with how expensive they were. Gold and silver embellishments lined every tower that Izaya saw, round and bulbous with sharp tips that glinted in the low light.

From the palace, Izaya could easily see the harbour and the thousands of lights from the sky-high buildings that dotted the land. He could see where the urban cityscape slowly fanned out into sprawling suburban streets, and finally where the land gave way to the frozen tundra. He could even see the slopes of the mountains that lined the edge of the city. 

Walking quickly, Shirou led Izaya through the twisting halls, passing what must have been a hundred doors on their way. Eventually, Shirou rounded the last corner, bringing them into a spacious hallway.

He stopped in front of the tall glacial doors leading to the boudoir, holding his arm out to stop Izaya from rushing forth.

"Izaya," he murmured softly. Izaya could see him turn his head in the corner of his eye, but he stubbornly refused to look at him. "I know you want answers, and you definitely deserve them. But..." Shirou sighed and pressed the door open. "Be kind to her. She's been through a lot."

Straightening his shoulders, he quickly brushed off Shirou's words of warning. As if he cared what Kyouko had gone through. What about all that _he'd_ gone through as a child growing up in such a loveless environment? Izaya strode into the room as if he'd walked these floors a hundred times before, his movements as languid and at ease as he could force them to be.

He spotted the woman draped across a heavily padded chaise lounge next to the fireplace. The woman was asleep -- or, she had been, until the creaking of the doors woke her. The woman's delicate face wrinkled for a second before smoothing, and she stretched lazily across her throne. Izaya watched as she caressed her pregnant belly lovingly, and the motion put a bitter taste in his mouth. "Shirou," she murmured, her voice carrying like a song through the room. "Is that you? I thought you were spending the day with Him."

"I am," Shirou declared, his voice shivering up Izaya's spine like thunder in the echoing room. "There's someone here you should meet."

Kyouko's face scrunched in confusion. All the sleepiness in her eyes vanished when she caught sight of Izaya. Her face went pale, and she sat upright, rigid in her plush chair. "I-Izaya," she coughed. Izaya could hear just how unpracticed his name was on her tongue. "Shirou, what have you done, bringing him here!" she hissed, not moving her wide eyes from where Izaya was standing. She shrugged on the white cardigan that had been draped over the back of her chair.

Shirou moved to help his wife stand. He leaned in to murmur something unintelligible in her ear, but even if Izaya couldn't hear it, he could see it. He saw it in the shock that went through her, and the way she covered her mouth with her hand as if she was going to be sick.

"We owe it to him to let him know. It would be cruel to keep him in the dark forever."

"But that was the plan, Shirou. Keep him in the military. make sure he's ok, and have him never find out! This goes against everything we decided for him!"

"He deserves to know."

"No," Kyouko hissed, just loud enough for Izaya to hear. She glanced at him, meeting his eyes before turning to face her husband. "I've moved past all of this. It would be better for him if he doesn't know me."

"I can decide what's best for myself," Izaya finally said, his voice surprisingly level for all the churning emotions in his gut. He could feel the thin ice decorations sitting on a tea table rattling from the force of his unrestrained emotions.

It took Kyouko a while for her to turn and face Izaya. And when she did, her eyes never met Izaya's. She looked ashamed, and something about that look was satisfying to Izaya.

"Izaya." She cleared her head and looked and took on the air of a composed politician. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hmm? Really." Izaya took a bold few steps forward, moving until he was close enough to plop himself down onto an opposite couch. He nearly fell back into the cushion with how bouncy it was, and he was only just able to keep his balance. "Why never visit? Surely my _mother_ would have loved to come and visit her only son."

"I suppose this means you don't know about how ill I've been for the past few years," Kyouko snapped back, her hackles rising defensively. "It's been incredibly limiting."

"Of course. Just not limiting enough for you to stop playing politician." Kyouko at least had the decency to lower her head at that.

"Let's not dwell on the past. You're here now, that's what matters." Kyouko's voice was far from welcoming. She seemed to be determined to maintain the distance between them.

Izaya had read books with scenes like this before. The protagonist, lost in a sea of turmoil, finally finds their long lost parents. They shed tears together, mourn their lost time and celebrate their future together. And then, the mother would bring the protagonist into an embrace, warm and all-encompassing. Enough to undo the mistakes of the past. 

But that was in a book, and reality was far from that idyllic scene.

"Why did you never come for me," Izaya asked, some of the biting edge to his words lost to the hurt choking in his throat. "Why have you never brought me here?" _'Why did you never care enough to look for me? Why does this hurt so much?'_

Kyouko shifted on her feet, her eyes darting back and forth. "I couldn't," she finally choked out, her words shattering just like Izaya's heart. "I just couldn't bear to see you."

Another sharp jab pierced Izaya's chest. _'But why!'_ Izaya wanted to scream. _'I don't understand! Why don't I understand!'_ "So I was right," he scoffed instead, "you don't care about me."

"No, that is _not_ true," Kyouko instantly denied, but Izaya didn't trust her shifty eyes. "I care about you, Izaya. I do, I do, _I do_."

"So why did you never come for me!" Izaya yelled. "Why can't you even look at me now?"

"Because every time I look at you, I just..." she trailed off into a hiccuped sob. "I see the man who fathered you, and I see the hurt I've caused Shirou. I see the hurt I've caused you, too. I see every mistake I've made in my past, and it aches so much that I can't bear to face it."

_'What the hell else was I expecting. She never cared before, she doesn't care now. To her, I'm nothing.'_ "You made a mistake with my father?" _'Of course she thinks I'm a mistake. Just another obstacle getting in the way of her happy family.'_ "Then what does that make me?"

Izaya stormed out without another word. Behind him, he heard the ice ornament shatter.

* * *

Izaya sat on the steps leading up to the Great Hall, his shoulders hunched, and his hood pulled over his head to hide his face. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, and his cheek rested against his bony knee.

Clenching his fingers into fists against his forearms, Izaya ducked his head low and squeezed his eyes shut. This was an outcome he had expected, something he anticipated the moment Tsukumoya found the information for him. He'd been bracing himself for this for days.

So why did it _hurt so damn much_?

Izaya stiffened when he heard heavy footsteps approach him from behind, echoing loudly in the empty Great Hall foyer. Bunching himself in tighter, Izaya pointedly ignored Shirou when he sat a few feet beside him. It was childish, sure, but Izaya couldn't face Shirou right now.

"You know," Shirou began, catching Izaya off guard, "I was there when you were born." He didn't continue until Izaya peeked his head out just enough to see Shirou out of the corner of his eye. "You were so small, and you were so precious. And when I held you in my arms for the first time, I cried harder than I've ever cried in my life." Shirou scooted in closer, and after a moment of hesitation, gently laid his hand on Izaya's head. "I felt so proud of you the moment I laid eyes on you, because I _knew_ you would do amazing things one day. I thought I'd never feel as proud as I did in that moment, but you proved me wrong the instant I saw you again. Even if you aren't mine, I still love you as my firstborn child. And even if it's hard for Kyouko to say it, I know she does too."

Breathing slowly to stop an embarrassing sob from escaping his throat, Izaya scrubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve and shrugged Shirou off him. "Why can't she say it?" Izaya asked pitifully. "I don't understand."

"Kyouko's been through a lot." It was hard for Izaya to not feel bitter about that. "It's not my place to tell you about it, but there are... let's say mental blocks that make it hard for her to express just how much she cares. But she does care, Izaya. You're still her firstborn, she hasn't forgotten that." Izaya didn't know what he hated more: his pitying tone or the way Shirou spoke as if speaking to a child.

"What about my father. My real one. There was never anything about him in the file."

"To be honest, I don't know much about him either. Kyouko... she doesn't like talking about him. But I know he was a Fire Nation merchant."

Izaya let out a mirthless huff. "Yeah, I expected that." Shirou let out a chuckle of his own, but the bright sound of it died in the frigid air. For a while, the two were silent. Izaya's addled mind was slowly processing everything, while Shirou remained respectfully quiet. Finally, "Do you think I'd be able to find him?" Izaya blurted out. He didn't know where the question came from. Information on his father was useless to him, but some deep down desire to have someone -- have a _family_ \-- made Izaya demand to know.

Shirou sighed deeply, tapping his fingers together. "I don't know," he murmured. "The Fire Nation's no small country. It'll take a huge stroke of luck to find someone you don't even know." Shoulders sagging in disappointment, Izaya lowered his head back to his knees. 

But then, Shirou cleared his throat, "You know, there was a typhoon that hit the south coast of the Fire Nation a week or so ago." Izaya made a face at the sudden change of subject. "It was a pretty bad storm, and it hit one of our timber trading docks. So I've decided to send over some relief, fifty troops in the next four days to help with the clean up effort. They're taking volunteers." Izaya's eyes widened in understanding. "It's a good opportunity for a trainee to get some hands-on experience, even if it's not in battle," Shirou continued, standing and moving down a few steps.

"Thank you for bringing me the opportunity." Izaya wanted to say more, to thank him for the year and a half that they had together because those were the best times of his life. But Shirou seemed to understand even if Izaya couldn't quite manage to say it.

"Of course. I trust this means that you won't be blackmailing me about this information?"

Chuckling under his breath, "No promises... At least, I won't do anything that will come back to hurt you." _'I can't do that after everything you've done for me.'_

Shirou just gave him a small smile, straining at the corners from what Izaya would only assume as bitter-sweet sadness. "Well, I suppose if you're... done here, I can take you back to Apitu. Today's been a long one. It might be best if you rest to mull things over." He reached out an arm when Izaya descended the steps and gently wrapped his arm over Izaya's shoulder.

And just for a second, Izaya allowed himself to lean into the touch.

* * *

Izaya stumbled back into his dorm at Apitu in a daze. The whole afternoon had been more mentally exhausting than he'd realized because once he flopped down onto his bed, he passed out. But his dreams were no better than reality, as images of that horrified stare burned behind his eyes and seared pain through his chest.

Thankfully, the second Tsukumoya waltzed through the doors, Izaya was startled awake. Those horrible images vanished from his sight, and Izaya found himself staring at the ceiling of his bunk.

"Oh, Izaya. I didn't think you'd be back so early. I was kinda hoping for some privacy."

"Ew, don't be gross, Tsukumoya," Izaya scowled disdainfully. The other boy just shrugged.

Tsukumoya rapped his knuckles against the metal railing, making Izaya's nose scrunch up in annoyance. "So," the older boy said, toeing off his still-wet boots. "How'd it go?"

"Terribly," Izaya spat, turning so his front was facing the wall. "She didn't want to see me."

"But those documents I dug up for you, were they legit?" Izaya shot him a glare over the shoulder, and Tsukumoya wilted. "Oh, uh, sorry."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Izaya huffed, his hands fisting his blankets. "She doesn't care, and she never will. I can't change that."

"Oh... um, I'm sorry, Izaya," Tsukumoya said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and looking unsure of what to do.

"I don't care anymore. If she can't love me, that's fine. Besides--" he flipped back over to look at Tsukumoya "--I can find another parent that might."

Tsukumoya furrowed his brow, then his eyes went wide. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding." Izaya turned and sat up. "Shirou told me he was a merchant. If I find the trade documents from around the time I was conceived, I can find the companies from the Fire Nation that were trading with us. Then, I can get an employee list of all the workers around that time. Then it's the simple matter of tracking each of them down."

"That doesn't sound simple at all," Tsukumoya deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never mind all that, how the hell are you gonna get to the Fire Nation in the first place? It's not like you can just _leave_!"

"Oh, but can't I?" Izaya asked with a smirk. "A typhoon hit the Fire Nation's south coast. A few troops plus some volunteers will be sent out to provide aid. All I have to do is volunteer, then skip town when I get my first lead."

Tsukumoya's frown deepened at Izaya's words. "But how are you gonna get back?"

"I won't be."

Tsukumoya made a face, his features twisting into disbelief. "But... but you can't," Tsukumoya said, his voice small and unsure. "What about me?"

Feeling inexplicably guilty, Izaya inched himself closer to the edge of the bed. "Well, I guess you'll be staying here. Unless you'd like to come with me." Izaya shrugged flippantly when Tsukumoya's expression didn't change. "I'll come and visit, of course. I'm not abandoning you or anything."

Tsukumoya just scoffed violently, his gaze coming alight with anger. "Is that what you fucking think," he growled. "It was so _stupid_ of me to believe that we were anything close to friends," he muttered, and the words hurt more than Izaya wanted to acknowledge.

Tsukumoya scowled at Izaya one last time, then turned to leave, filling Izaya with a sudden panic. Every part of him was screaming at him to not let Tsukumoya walk out the door.

Just before Tsukumoya could step away, Izaya stood and grabbed his arm. "Tsukumoya." Izaya clutched tighter to his sleeve. "You... you _are_ my friend. My _best_ friend," Izaya said honestly. "You matter so much to me. If you were anyone else, I wouldn't have batted an eye and just left, I wouldn't have cared. But you're important to me. I don't want to leave you, but you have to understand that this is important to me."

The truth to Izaya's words felt foreign on his tongue. It was bitter and acidic with emotions that Izaya usually didn't express, and it made his face heat up with self-consciousness. But the tightness in his chest eased, and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Tsukumoya's cold stare back, however, felt like a vice grip around his neck, ruthless and more hostile than any expression Izaya had seen on Tsukumoya's face. "Well, clearly, I didn't matter enough." He ripped his sleeve from Izaya's grip, grabbed his boots, and left the room. 

That night, Tsukumoya didn't return to their dorm.

* * *

Four days later, Izaya found himself waiting for the boat that would pick them and the rest of the troops up. A rucksack was slung over his shoulder, containing a few sets of clothes and some sentimental items than he didn't want to leave behind.

On top of the perpetual night that winter brought, it was snowing heavily, reducing the world to a blur of low visibility. A few others managed to bend a wall of snow around them, protecting them from the worst of the icy flurry. But the cold was still biting, and Izaya wanted nothing more than to be curled up somewhere warm. 

Since his argument with Tsukumoya, the other boy had avoided Izaya entirely. He sat on the opposite side of the mess hall, rarely came back to their dorm, and ignored Izaya's presence when they were forced together.

It was a lonely few days, but Izaya didn't allow himself to dwell on it for longer than was necessary. He had information to find, after all.

After accessing the Fire Nation to Southern Water Tribe trading records, it only took Izaya a matter of hours to narrow down a list of seventeen possible suspects, nine of which were working in the trading town they were headed to. He'd even had time to do some preliminary research on some of them, finding photos, when they left their respective companies, even their current whereabouts. That list was currently tucked in the back of his rucksack, hidden in a small pocket beneath layers of clothes.

Shivering again against the cold, Izaya pulled the jacket tighter over his frame, spitting out the fur and hair that flew into his mouth with the motion. It hadn't fully sunk in that Izaya would be leaving this place for good. Even when he was packing his bags and saying his last words to Kyoda and his gang, it hadn't yet hit him that he would never be here again.

He just wished he could have seen Tsukumoya one last time. Izaya didn't want their friendship to end on such a sour note. It would be his biggest regret if he left things the way they were. But with Tsukumoya avoiding him and his own cowardice, it had been impossible.

_"Izaya!"_

Sighing, Izaya dug his hands into his pockets moodily. _'Damn guilt... making me hear things.'_

_"Oi, Izaya, are you deaf or something?"_

There was a tap on his shoulder. "Um, I think someone's calling for you," the boring-faced soldier said, pointing to a figure stumbling their way down the dock. It was impossible to see their face in the darkness, but Izaya had seen that clumsy gait enough times to recognize who it was.

Shrugging off the other man's touch, Izaya stepped back out into the wind, hissing when the chill enveloped his body. "Tsukumoya?" He had to yell just to be heard over the wind, but the figure perked up in response and began moving faster.

After several near slips on the ice-covered dock, Izaya and Tsukumoya managed to meet halfway.

"Izaya," Tsukumoya gasped, panting from exertion. Without warning, Tsukumoya lunged at Izaya, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in the tightest hug Izaya had ever received.

"Tsukumoya?" Izaya spluttered, confused but unresisting. But Tsukumoya didn't give a word of explanation, and eventually, Izaya wrapped his own arms around Tsukumoya. He wanted to say something, an apology, another explaination, anything. But right now, words would have only ruined the moment, so Izaya kept quiet.

"Don't be gone for too long." Tsukumoya's grip grew tighter, and Izaya knew it was Tsukumoya's way of giving forgiveness.

"I'll be back to annoy you before you know it," Izaya breathed, and for half a second, Izaya wasn't sure if Tsukumoya had heard it or not. But Tsukumoya took in a ragged breath and pushed him back toward where the rest of the soldiers were waiting.

"Good luck, Izaya." Then Tsukumoya turned away, hunching his shoulders against the wind as he began his trek back to the compound. He raised his hand in a final farewell, not once looking back.

And he vanished into the storm, out of Izaya's life forever.

* * *

The coastal town of Tsusho, as it turned out, had been hit far harder than Izaya had expected. The typhoon had brought a torrent of water down into this traditional little town, flooding warehouses and roads with murky, knee-deep water. Most of the buildings had managed to stay upright, their metal frames stable enough to withstand the force of the storm. But the few tourist traps and stores weren't so lucky, reduced to splintered hunks of wood and razor-sharp sheets of metal.

"Alright, does everyone have a vest?" called a pot-bellied Fire Nation man. He was standing on an old crate with an orange vest in one hand and a megaphone in the other. A sleepy chorus of yes' followed.

Izaya looked down to the vest he'd been issued. Each one came in a single size with adjustable velcro straps. But even when tightened as far as it could go, the garment still pooled around Izaya's chest, and the ends of it lapped at the water if Izaya so much as bent forward. He looked embarrassingly small the vest, and he could feel a few curious stares looking down at him from where he was standing in the front row, but he did his best to ignore them. After all, it wasn't like he would have to deal with them for very long.

"Good, very good," the man called again, bringing everyone's attention to the front. "Now, earthbenders and non-benders, you'll be distributing food and fresh water. You'll also be helping to remove obstacles and rubble. Waterbenders, you'll be setting up blockades to prevent more water from coming into the area. You'll also be removing as much excess water as possible. Once the land's a little drier, the earthbenders will come in to remove sand and silt. It'll take us a few days, but if we work as a team, we can get it done together! Any questions?" The man waited for a moment to see if anyone had any objections, "Perfect. Let's get this moving!"

The group split from there, but before Izaya could move to join the other waterbenders, the pot-bellied man stopped him. "Young man? Yes, you over there." Izaya turned just as the man approached. "I wasn't expecting such young volunteers," the man said jokingly.

Izaya blinked at him boredly. "I'm always looking for opportunities to help out in any way I can," Izaya said with put on enthusiasm. "I hope that's not a problem?"

"Ah, of course not!" The man gave Izaya a wide smile. "I just thought that you'd be more comfortable helping at the distribution booths. It's probably a good idea to leave the heavy lifting to the adults. We've got army folk here, you know?"

"I'll be fine, sir." Izaya ducked away from the other's touch, deciding to forgo telling him that Izaya was actually a part of those 'army folk'. "I'll be sure to pace myself."

He turned away from the man to approach the bright red flags that had where the barriers were supposed to be raised. Some of the other soldiers stopped and stared at him. Only three others were from Apitu, so none of them were used to seeing a child in the army.

Ignoring the stares of the soldiers around him, Izaya created a platform of ice, solid and wide enough for him to stand on. That way, there was less chance of his pants getting soaked in the process.

Bracing his feet against the ice, Izaya lowered his stance and straightened his back, much like an earthbender would. With little effort, he pushed the water out and upward, lifting a heavy sheet of water several metres into the air. The simple movement carried enough force to reveal the ground for a few seconds despite being covered in three feet of water. Quickly, Izaya froze the water, creating a tall, even wall of ice.

Creating a path of ice for him to walk on, Izaya inspected the wall. After a second of thought, Izaya created a slope of the outer face. That way, if another rush of water were to suddenly appear, the force wouldn't be perpendicular to the wall.

Once he was satisfied that the wall was thick enough and without weak points where the ice could crack, Izaya moved on to create another section of wall. He smirked when he saw the surprised look in the pot-bellied man's eyes. _'Still want me to work in the booth?'_ he thought smugly.

By the end of the day, Izaya's body was sorer than it had ever been, even after days of gruelling training. His body felt like he had been turned to stone, and he hardly had the energy to move. Dirt and grime caked his body, and his pants were plastered to his skin from all the muddy water they had soaked up.

_'But,'_ Izaya's mind reminded him, _'at least now I can focus on the_ real _reason why I'm here.'_

Feeling sweaty and disgusting, Izaya moodily trudged to the inn where they would be staying the second he was dismissed. 

The inn and a few other locations were in the lucky part of town that hadn't been hit too hard by the typhoon. They were all located at the base of a small mountain, right where the flat land of the coast began sloping upwards. They managed to avoid the worst of the flooding and had only suffered a few fallen trees and eroded soil. But because the land was still unstable, the few residents that lived in the area were forced to temporarily relocate into the community centre.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Izaya made his way to the community centre turned shelter with his list of names in hand. 

When he arrived, the community centre was filled with people, the small gymnasium lined wall to wall with cots and beds. Most of the people inside were elderly or middle-aged, their hair peppering to white and their faces wrinkled from decades of emotion.

Taking a chance, Izaya approached the first cot, where a middle-aged man with a patchy beard was sitting. "Excuse me, sir," Izaya greeted in a pleasant voice, "do you mind if I take a few minutes of your time?"

The man blinked at him and smiled kindly. "Sure, young man."

Handing the man Izaya's list, "I was wondering if there's a name that you recognize on this list."

"And what is this for? A school project?"

Izaya nodded like an eager student. "Yes. I have a project about Tsusho's trading history with the Southern Water Tribe. I need a first-hand account, so I found a list of a few merchants that worked here in the past." The lie was smooth and well-practiced. And, judging by the interested hum from the man, he believed it.

"Well, I do recognize Yuto Takahashi, but he moved to a bigger city with his wife a few years back. And Long Zhenzhu, but he's moved a few towns over to take care of his parents. Other than that, I don't recognize any of these names." The man gave Izaya an apologetic look and handed the paper back.

_'Ok, that's fine. I was expecting a slow start. There's a whole room to ask. I'm bound to find_ something _here.'_

* * *

It took Izaya three days to get his first lead. Apparently, a man from his list was volunteering at the relief aid, a non-bender named Kai ChiLi. But when Izaya asked him if he'd ever had an _encounter_ with a Water Tribe woman while overseas, the man gave him a strange look and pointed to his wedding ring. "I'm married. I would never betray my wife's trust like that," he had said solemnly, sounding more serious than was probably necessary.

Izaya's second and third leads ended similarly, all bringing Izaya no closer to finding his father. After that, there was no one left in Tsusho to question, and Izaya couldn't just skip town because he had no other solid leads to follow. He was stuck in a dead end.

Nearly a week and a half later, however, Izaya finally found the stroke of luck he was looking for.

It had started when a boat from a neighbouring town had driven over. By then, the ice wall had been constructed, and the land drained of excess water. The earthbenders had removed most of the dirt and silt covering the area. Now, purifying the town's freshwater reserve was their top priority.

The men in the boat had brought over several crates of alcohol, and everyone agreed to take an impromptu break. It was going to be sunset in a few hours anyway, so there was no point in starting the long filtration process now.

Izaya, though unable to drink like everyone else, was well compensated by a can of coffee. Several men were sitting on the remaining pieces of rubble. A few others had taken it upon themselves to bend the roads into benches, promising half-heatedly to put them back when they were done.

Izaya sat on the corner of one of the blocks, idly sipping his coffee while he glared at the mud staining the concrete. _'We're probably gonna have to powerwash that later,'_ he grumbled internally, scuffing the rubber boots he'd been given across the ground.

His body was still sore from all the work he was putting in. At first, he'd planned to do the bare minimum of work required to get him through the day. But he couldn't stand it when people looked down on him like he was inferior just because he was young.

"Hey, kid." Izaya bristled. Why did everyone here insist on calling him _kid_? "I didn't know they let kids so young volunteer 'round here!" It was one of the men from the boat. He'd been drinking long before he arrived if his too loud tone and red face had anything to say.

Izaya smiled at the man, not out of kindness but rather out of curiosity. He hadn't had much time to just observe people, especially since his mind had been on a one-track mission. But, just for now, Izaya allowed himself to be entertained by this man. He'd never had a conversation with a drunk, after all.

"It was certainly a lucky opportunity," Izaya hummed, watching the man blink stupidly, then burst into laughter.

"You're one weird kid," the man barked, laughing as if Izaya had said the funniest thing he'd ever heard. He took a long swig from whatever concoction was in his can. "Where're you from?"

"Southern Water Tribe," Izaya answered honestly. There was no need to lie to someone so inebriated. They wouldn't remember it anyway. "My family does a lot of volunteer work, so we decided to come and help out."

The man scrutinized Izaya's face for a long time. "No, you're not." Pointing accusingly at Izaya's face, "How are _you_ from the Southern Water Tribe?"

_'Well, at least he isn't asking about my volunteer-conscious family.'_

"We live in the Capital. It's quite diverse there."

"No, no, it's not that. I don't care about shit like that. You look like someone I know. His name's on the tip of my tongue, I swear..." The man swung his head around violently. "OI MIKI," he yelled, catching the attention of another man. "C'MERE, THIS KID LOOKS LIKE A GUY!"

A few chuckles rang through the air, but now the man had Izaya's full attention. Sure, this man could just be on a drunken tirade, full of useless word vomit. But a drunk man was an honest man, and if he really thought Izaya resembled someone he knew, Izaya was damn well going to listen.

"Look at this kid, Miki!" the man slurred, looking more intoxicated by his excitement.

"Nii-san, please stop," Miki -- pleaded, waving his hands frantically to quiet the man who was apparently his brother. "You've had too much to drink."

"But look at him," the man insisted. "He looks like one of the regulars!"

Miki glanced at Izaya and sighed. "Sure, there's a bit of a resemblance to Renjaku, but-"

"Renjaku!" the man exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. "That was his name. Look, it's a little Renjaku!" Izaya's memory flicked to the list he'd been reviewing all week. There was _definitely_ a Renjaku on that list.

Sighing, Miki turned to Izaya and bowed low. "Please forgive my brother. He can't handle his alcohol very well. Now, come along nii-san. Let's get you some water..."

Just before Miki could drag his brother away, Izaya stood, "I'm sorry, but who is it that I look like?"

Miki gave him a quick once over. "An old patron that frequented the bar me and my idiot brother own. Actually... now that I'm looking at you, you really do look like him."

"Where is he now?" Izaya demanded.

"Um, he hasn't been around in a long time. The last time I saw him was maybe six years ago? He lived over in Himeru, a town up in the mountains, but I'm not sure if he's still there or not... Are you related to him or something?" Miki paused, then bowed again, this time deeper than the last. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume or insinuate anything."

Abandoning his coffee, Izaya stood and bowed as well. "No, don't apologize. Thank you for the information." A giddy rush of adrenaline flooded his veins and made his blood roar loudly in his ears. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, Izaya had something substantial to go off of!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been done for like 3 days, I just didn't want to edit it :/
> 
> But it's here now!

It took Izaya two days to prepare for his desertion. Even if he wanted to leave the second he found out about Renjaku, he knew better than to charge headfirst into a situation as uncertain as this. There were contingencies that needed to be covered, and plans that needed to be made; it would be idiotic to rush ahead when he knew so little.

After doing some preliminary research, Izaya found that the small town of Himeru was located just northeast of Tsusho, over the mountains and a day's train ride away. It was a sleepy little town with less than five thousand residents, mostly consisting of the elderly and families with very young children. From what Izaya had gathered, most people of working age in Tsusho travelled to larger cities for work, which fit Renjaku's profile exactly.

Additionally, after digging through past worker files(which were _definitely_ confidential, not that Izaya cared), he found that a man named Renjaku Orihara had, indeed, living in Himeru. The file was outdated by a few years, but there was vital information on it, including an address: 32 Muyaku road. Izaya made sure to burn that name into his mind. Even if Renjaku wasn't living there anymore, Izaya could easily track him down again.

He'd even managed to get a hold of a photo of the man. It was grainy from the poor camera quality, and the odd angle made it hard to see the man's features clearly. But Izaya could see himself in the gentle slope of his nose and in the hard cut of his cheekbones, barely noticeable on Izaya's own childish features. Most of all, Izaya could see it in the slim line of his eyes, the shape of it frozen in a forever fox-like expression. _"He looks like me,"_ was Izaya's first thought when he saw the picture, suddenly feeling a sense of belonging, more than he had ever felt before. _"This is it. This is my father. This is my_ family _."_

The image in his hands only made Izaya feel antsier, impatient and jittery with the desire to move on from this stupid relief effort. By then, he was so close to being ready. He could leave in a matter of days if he wanted to.

All he needed now was the perfect opportunity.

* * *

It was nearing midnight, but the crowded inn was still alive with light, laughter, and the reek of alcohol. A cloud of smoke had settled throughout the building, souring the air and making Izaya's eyes water. Empty bottles and cans clattered against each other, and Izaya swore he heard the sound of glass shattering in another room. Plates of senbei, manju, and dango -- traditional Fire Nation snacks -- were littered across the tables, dripping sticky syrup onto the already crumb-covered surfaces.

Izaya sighed in his corner of the room, sipping the lukewarm apple juice in his hands and cringing each time to over-sugared drink hit his tongue. It was a gift from the kindly innkeeper who didn't want him to feel left out while all the adults were poisoning their minds with alcohol. He rolled his eyes for the nth time when another round of raucous laughter exploded through the room, wincing when the sudden sound filled the air.

Watching drunk people had become boring. It was amusing at first, but after seeing people slur their words into incoherency and stumble their way around for hours, things were getting repetitive. After all, their little party had been going on for quite some time now.

That afternoon, an hour before sunset, a freak storm came out of nowhere and forced them all indoors. No one saw it coming until the sky broke open and began pouring buckets, faster and with more force than the waterbenders could handle. Things only got worse when the wind started to pick up, whipping around rusted metal sheets and sharp beams of broken rebar, making the relief site a danger zone. After that, everyone had been forced to retire early for their own safety. The storm had been raging on ever since, with only brief lapses of calm in between.

But Izaya knew he could play this to his advantage. This kind of weather was perfect when it came to stealth, and would provide ample cover for Izaya's escape. In Apitu, he learned how to flawlessly cover his tracks, using fog as cover, and turning rain into floating sheets of ice for him to walk on, leaving no footprints behind. Add onto that how intoxicated everyone was, and Izaya could effectively disappear without a trace.

All he had to do was wait until everyone was drunk enough for Izaya to perform his vanishing act. 

Which, of course, didn't take long.

When someone in another room broke out into song, Izaya took it as his cue that he was good to go. Getting up from the corner he had sequestered himself to, he slipped out of the room, pulling on his slippers on the way out. He waved goodnight to the few men who were sober enough to acknowledge it, but still too drunk to do anything else.

Stepping over a passed out figure and into the hall, Izaya made a beeline to the sleeping quarters he had been forced to share with several strangers. He shuddered to think of the countless sleepless nights he had been forced to endure, kept awake by the constant shuffling from across the room and the snores that filled the air. The memory of other people sleeping in such close proximity to him and invading his strict personal space still made his skin crawl. It was unbearable. Just another thing that Izaya wouldn't miss about this place.

Izaya slid open the canvas screen doors and slipped silently inside. It was probably in poor taste to keep the slippers on, but at the moment, that wasn't Izaya's priority. The room was pitch black, with only the hazy light from the hallways to illuminate the room. Carefully, Izaya navigated the dark room, stepping gingerly over the tatami mats as he made his way over to where his futon was neatly rolled up.

His rucksack was packed and ready for him, with all his belongings stuffed safely inside. Toeing off his slippers, he rolled on his socks and slipped his feet into his warm, winter boots. He shrugged off the shirt that marked him as a soldier for the South and grabbed a generic, too-big sweatshirt that he'd swiped from Tsukumoya before he left. A few rolls of Fire Nation cash, stolen from a particularly forgetful volunteer, were also safely stowed into his back pocket. After a few seconds of thought, while listening to the howling wind and lashing rain, he also pulled on his thermal face mask. He made sure to flip it inside out, so the Water Tribe crest wasn't visible.

Zippering up his jacket and flipping up the hood, Izaya slung his bag over his shoulders, securing it tightly so it wouldn't get blown away. He pulled open the balcony door, wincing when a lash of wind buffeted his face. Quickly, he began to bend the rain into a shield that protected his face and body and grew with each droplet of rain it absorbed. The balcony faced north, toward a strip of dark forest, bracketed by a looming mountain face. The shadowed trees stretched out further than Izaya could see, transforming into a sea of indistinguishable black. But he knew if kept moving north, he would eventually reach a train station that would take him to Himeru.

Bracing himself, Izaya slid the door shut without hesitation. He vaulted himself over the balcony's railing, maintaining the shield with his right hand while bending himself a floating platform of ice from a puddle with his left. With a great deal of concentration, he also managed to manipulate the fog around him, blending him into his surroundings.

The second his foot made contact with the platform, Izaya made another, floating just far enough for him to leap to without losing his balance. When Izaya reached the second platform, he released his hold on the previous one, letting it melt back into a puddle as if the ice had never been there. It was like the ice hopping game he had played as a child, where the ice acted as stepping stones across an ever-expanding expanse of sea.

The culmination of everything -- the fog, the shield, the platforms -- was already beginning to tire Izaya out. He could feel his breath catching in his chest and his arms shaking with effort, muscles already burning even though he was barely out of the inn. He would only be able to maintain this for five or six minutes, seven if he was lucky. 

But he just gritted his teeth and bore with it, racing as fast as he could into the looming forest before him. He could stop and rest later. Right now, he needed to _move_.

And with that, Izaya vanished into the night.

* * *

"Young man? Excuse me, young man?" Izaya struggled to peel his eyes open against the pure exhaustion he was feeling. He squinted when a beam of sun hit his eyes, hissing at the sudden brightness. He blinked dumbly for a second at the unfamiliar surroundings of the train car he was currently in. Groaning softly, he rubbed his eyes, allowing his brain to slowly turn back on. How long had he been on this train? He got on at dawn, and judging by the sun, three, maybe four hours had passed. 

The woman cleared her throat. "It's the end of the line, do you need help getting off?" The kindly woman talking to Izaya looked worried, but Izaya managed to give her a convincing smile. "No, I'm fine," he chirped with as much energy as he could muster. "Thank you for waking me up! Have a nice day!" Grabbing his backpack, Izaya quickly stood, ignoring the dizziness that swamped his vision when he exited the train onto the platform.

After travelling all night through the pouring rain, Izaya had managed to make it to a larger suburban town called Nagar. From there, he found a train station that travelled through the mountain to the populated city of Nakaram, where he was now. Nakaram was one of the bigger cities in the Fire Nation, even though its size paled in comparison to the massive Fire Nation Capital.

It was one of the many cities that saw significant growth during the Hundred Year War. It was once the base of an old smelting plant, where ore extracted from the mountains were purified and made into war-grade weapons. Prisoners from the Earth Kingdom were captured and turned into cheap labour. Now, those smelting plants were long gone, torn down in the wake of peaceful times, and replaced with monuments and statues dedicated to all the faceless prisoners that were once held captive here.

Across from Nakaram's metropolitan centre, there was a quiet suburb, filled with schools and residential homes. From there, Izaya could take another train ride to the end of the line, and he would finally be in Himeru.

As Izaya dazedly made his way off the platform and into the streets, he couldn't help but marvel at how different Nakaram was to the Southern Water Tribe Capital. For one, the Fire Nation was _hot_ , even for winter. Though snow and slush was covering the ground, it was melting into muddy brown water, draining fast into the sewers. He found himself practically baking in his puffy winter jacket, so he shrugged it off and tied it around his waist. Even then, the air was heavy and humid, a stark contrast to South's usual dry wind. The humidity felt foreign against Izaya's skin, and after a few minutes of walking, he felt uncomfortably sticky.

The next thing he noticed was the sheer amount of people that looked just like him. Sure, it wasn't terribly uncommon to see someone from Fire Nation descent in the Southern Capital, but this was the first time Izaya had seen so many of them. In this crowd, he didn't stand out. Here, he looked like any other person, not a foreigner, or a Fire Nation kid, just a kid. Though he did get a few odd stares from his clothing. His sweater was non-descript, but the thick jacket he was carrying along with his heavy sole boots made him stand out a bit.

For a while, Izaya was tempted to stay the night and continue to Himeru in the morning. After all, this was a new city! A whole new batch of people, raised in a drastically different culture from the South! Izaya could get a first-hand look at just how much their cultures diverged. From the slight differences in the most insignificant gestures to the variations that showed just how much the South and the Fire Nation contrast. This was his chance to see the words from a cultural textbook come to life! How could he pass this up!

...

Shaking his head free of his thoughts, Izaya continued on his way to the other side of the city. _'Focus, Izaya,'_ he internally scolded. _'There will be plenty of opportunities for this later. Besides, there isn't enough money for me to stay all that long.'_

Despite this, Izaya _did_ give in and buy a few snacks. It amazed him just how different the food here was compared to the Southern Capital. In Nakaram, jerkied and salted meats were nowhere to be seen. Street food that one might find in the Capital like seaweed soba and crowberry shaved ice was replaced with shark-squid ink noodles and gooseberry kulfi. All the spices that coated everything made Izaya's tongue itch, and he would never be able to understand the Fire Nation's obsession with everything being spicy. In the South, flavours were generally limited to salty or bland beyond belief. Even the sweetest native fruits were practically sugarless, which Izaya had grown accustomed to. But here, there were a million different flavours, all done in a million different ways. It was overwhelming, and he found himself feeling sick more than a few times that day.

He ate while he walked through the streets, marvelling at all the people that fluttered around him like, moving in a giant, efficient wave through the city streets. Even in the South's most populated roads, they were never this crowded. He passed by an old war monument of a faceless Earth Kingdom man, one of many that peppered Nakaram. Eventually, the bustling roads of the city centre began to thin out into suburbs and neighbourhoods. He even walked past Nakaram's heritage town, a small street with restored houses from the past.

Izaya made it to the station just in time to catch the noon train to Himeru. He quickly paid for his ticket and hopped aboard, mourning his lost opportunity as the train jerked to life Nakaram began to fade into the distance.

Through the train's windows, Izaya watched the urban cityscape morph into the countryside, filled with mile-wide crop fields and muddy rice paddies. Endless stretches of grass dominated the landscape, more than Izaya had ever seen in his life. He never knew the world could be so green. As the train began moving away from flat land and into the mountains, the sea of green was broken up by moss-covered rocks and spiky coniferous trees.

An hour of travel and several stops later, Izaya disembarked the train at the end of the line.

The Himeru station was far less grand than the one at Nakaram. The platform was small, with only two tracks and a small ticket booth. A few snow-dusted benches lined the platform, separated by low-hanging lamps with chipping paint and yellowing glass.

He followed down a short flight of stairs to a messy dirt road, scuffed here and there by footsteps, and frozen over with frost. In the distance, below the crest of a steep hill, Izaya could see the zigzagging lines of streets and low houses bunched together in neat clusters. The entire right side of the town was dedicated to rice paddies, sectioned off into equal pieces of land. A few sparse trees surrounded the area, tall and daunting, but looking lonely spread so far apart. The ground was only broked up by the steep face of a cliff. It looked as if a piece of the mountain had been gouged out to create this clearing, the perfect place for a hidden village. Everything was covered in a layer of snow, enough to build banks along the sides of the road.

Finding a small comfort in the familiarity of snow, Izaya bent some into his hand. It unfroze in an instant, and he began streaming the water from one hand into the other. The simple motion of it was enough to soothe some of Izaya's growing nerves. 

Of course, he was excited to meet the man who fathered him, to know the man he resembled so much. But at the same time, the looming premonition that Renjaku wouldn't want him, that he would reject him, weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was a possibility that Izaya had come to terms with, but it still filled Izaya with dread. He didn't want this meeting to go the same way as it had with Kyouko.

Rather than dwelling on those thoughts, Izaya put his focus into his bending. He concentrated on the movements of his fingers as he bent the water into elegant arcs and spirals, making sure they were graceful and smooth. His muscles were still sore from last night, aching when he moved the water too quickly or froze it unexpectedly, but he pushed through the ache. 

He bent the water into a whip and lashed it through the air a few times, savouring the _crack_ that followed. He shot the water up into the air, letting it explode into a million tiny particles that refracted the light into a pale rainbow.

And as he neared the edge of the steep hill overlooking the town, Izaya bent the snow at his feet into ice, easily sliding down in a matter of seconds.

From there, Izaya walked along a winding road, just large enough for a car or two to drive through, following the path of it as he headed deeper into town. He kept to the main road, not wanting to get lost in what felt like a maze of streets and buildings. He kept mental note of each street sign and marker he passed, keeping his eyes open for Muyaku.

Eventually, the main street came to a fork, leading to two roads that looked the exact same to Izaya. If only he had a map. That would have made things a hell of a lot easier.

"Excuse me?" A young woman cradling a baby in her arms approached Izaya. She gave him a polite smile. "Hello!" she greeted cheerfully, hiking her baby a little higher up on her hip. "Are you new around here? I don't think I've seen you before."

"Oh, I'm actually just visiting," Izaya said with a smile of his own. "I'm a little bit lost, though. I'm not familiar with the area."

"Aw, of course, I'll help you out, sweetheart!" the woman gushed. "We don't normally have visitors around these parts! Where are you from, your accent is absolutely adorable!"

Izaya blinked, a little taken aback by how quickly the woman had warmed up to him. Weren't most people wary of foreigners? Or at least people they didn't know? Did this woman have no sense of self-preservation? Rather than voicing any of those thoughts, Izaya responded, "The Southern Water Tribe," in a bright voice. The sugar-sweet tone of it sounded incredibly false in Izaya's ears, but the woman only perked up even more. Clearly, she found his foreignness cure, much like how most people view polar puppies or babies.

Regardless, it was easier than having to coax answers out of her, so Izaya decided to roll with it.

"Ah, I _knew_ it sounded familiar," she said with a snap of her fingers. "Southern Water Tribe accents are just so lovely to hear. I wish the folks around these parts sounded like that." She chuckled lightly, and Izaya followed along. "So, where can I take you? There aren't any hotels around here, so I'm assuming you're staying with some family? Oh, and my name's Yoonah, by the way. And this little guy-" she lifted one hand to brush the baby's hat out of its face "-is Jisoo." The baby gurgled a bit but didn't add anything to the conversation.

"Oh, well, my name's Torraq," Izaya said, putting one hand on his chest while offering the most generic Water Tribe name. "And yes, I'm visiting family. I'm looking for 32 Muyaku road."

"That's on the other side of town! How did you manage to get all the way out here? Let me walk you."

"Thank you, but that's not necessary-"

Yoonah shook her head dismissively and hoisted her baby, who was starting to fuss from the cold, higher, so it could wrap its arms around its mother's neck. "Nonsense. I'm going the same way, and it would ease my mind knowing that you didn't get lost again." Izaya grimaced internally. This woman was unnervingly polite, almost obnoxiously so. But she didn't look like she would take no for an answer.

So, rather unwillingly, Izaya allowed Yoonah to lead the way. At least now, Izaya knew he would be going in the right direction.

"So, you're staying with Orihara-san, huh, Torraq-kun?" Izaya blinked and looked up at the woman leading him. The name rang a bell, and he nodded. "I don't remember her mentioning that she'd be having family over anytime soon."

"Oh... well, it's a bit of a personal matter..." Izaya rubbed the back of his neck, feigning awkwardness.

Curiously enough, Yoonah's eyes softened on sympathy. "I see. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. It must be a painful memory for you." She went blissfully silent after that, shooting Izaya a solemn glance every once in a while. It was a strange response. Perhaps some tragedy had befallen the Orihara family, an untimely death or a sudden terminal illness leaving someone with only a matter of months to live. It set Izaya on edge, and a new worry began to form in his mind: what if Renjaku was...

He shook the thought off before it could take hold, refusing to even spare it a glance and instead focused on the road before him. Yoonah led him to a crosswalk and stopped. "Well, I turn this way." She pointed to the left where a small convenience store was. "Muyaku road is to the right. Do you think you'll be able to find your way?"

Izaya gave Yoonah a nod and a smile. "Yes, this is perfect, Yoonah-san. Thank you." He bowed politely.

"Ah, it's my pleasure. Now, I'd best be off before Jisoo gets too fussy." Yoonah reached out a hand and patted Izaya's shoulder. "I'm really sorry for your loss," she said with a pitying smile. "Renjaku-san was a great man."

He felt his whole body go cold as if the blood thrumming in his veins had frozen into ice. His mouth suddenly felt dry, and his throat closed into a choking vice grip. _"What?"_ he wanted to ask. _"What do you mean? What happened to Renjaku?"_ But before he could find his voice, Yoonah was already turning into the convenience store.

Swallowing thickly, Izaya robotically moved to follow the road. Each step felt like a battle between his body and his brain, where one half of his mind screamed at him to turn away, terrified by the idea that he had come all this way just to meet a dead man. But the other half was disgustingly hopeful that the Yoonah's words were lies, and that when he reached that house that was _so damn close_ , Renjaku would be there, surprised but alive.

But some of that hope died with each step Izaya took, and by the time he reached the doors of the house, he was more filled with dread than anything. He couldn't leave now, though. Even if Renjaku was dead, he still had a wife and children, people that Izaya was related to. _"I can still have a family here,"_ he tried to convince himself. _"I can still belong here."_

Without a second thought, Izaya reached up to ring the doorbell, pressing it quickly before he could change his mind. He flinched when the rabid barking of a raccoon dog immediately followed, yapping and rattling at the doors with more force than a domesticated pet should have. A muffled woman's voice came from beyond the door, her voice chiding and sharp. Footsteps grew closer, and Izaya stepped back, his heart slamming against his ribcage with force enough to ache.

"Lomri-kun, down!" a sharp woman's voice cried, and the barking stopped. "Bad boy, get away from the door, go!"

There was a short lapse of silence, followed by the metallic _click_ of a lock turning, and the glass door slid open, revealing a round-faced woman with small, button features. Crows feet and smile lines were beginning to set into the woman's face, but she still looked youthful with the long black hair falling down her shoulders. The angular, brown and black face of a raccoon dog peered out from the woman's feet, its caramel eyes staring up at Izaya curiously.

The woman took one look at Izaya, her eyes going wide in shock for a second before they narrowed coldly. "Yes?" she demanded, her eyes hardening as she looked at him. She looked like she was going for passive neutrality, but was failing miserably. "What do you want?"

_"Stay calm, Izaya. She's just trying to intimidate you."_ Izaya cleared his throat and gave her a docile, shy smile in hopes that she would lower her hackles. "I'm looking for a Renjaku Orihara-san?" he said, phrasing his words like a question, so he appeared less threatening. "Is he here?"

The woman's eyes flashed with pain for a second before hardening again, even colder than before. "No, now please leave." She moved to shut the door, but Izaya stopped her.

"Please, ma'am, I need you to help me," Izaya pleaded, feeling real desperation bleed into his voice. "I think Renjaku-san might be my father. Please, I have to know." Her face twisted into a grimace. She poked her head out the door, looking both ways quickly before jerking her head for Izaya to come inside.

"Just for a bit," she hissed, shutting the door with more force than necessary when Izaya stepped inside. "Take off your boots and put on some slippers," she said stiffly, moving deeper into her own home before Izaya could catch up. He quickly shuffled out of his boots, bending away the sweat that had collected from a day of walking around, and followed the woman. "Sit," the woman ordered, pointing a thin finger at one of the three couches in the living room. "Don't touch anything."

She glared at him for a second longer before turning up her nose in distaste and striding out, disappearing behind a wall and leaving Izaya alone. 

His gaze wandered around the room. It was rather simple, with bare white couches and a wood coffee table in the middle. A few decorative candles were in the middle of the table, surrounding a glass vase with translucent blue and white stones at the bottom.

The walls were dark grey, and a few photos were hanging in a cluster on the far side of the room. From what Izaya could tell, it was a family portrait. The woman and a man, who Izaya recognized as Renjaku, were standing behind two kids, a girl who looked about Izaya's age and a boy who looked two years younger than her. They were both uncannily similar to Izaya. Names were scribbled into the sides of the picture frame that read _Kanra_ and _Hibiya_.

He also spotted a shrine in the corner, a small cabinet-like piece that was made of dark-stained wood. It was half-open, but Izaya couldn't see past one of the cabinet's doors. Though he _could_ see a thin stream of smoke floating into the air, smelling distinctly like sandalwood incense.

But before Izaya could get a better look, the woman came back with two teacups and a brown teapot. "You can have a cup of tea. Then you have to go, understood?" She set down the cups before Izaya could answer, pouring them both a cup before sitting down opposite to him. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, her expression stern and unflinching.

To appear like less of a threat, Izaya made sure to keep his body language open and passive. "Can I know your name first?" he asked, trying to develop a personal connection with the woman in an attempt to ease her out of her defensive posture.

She sighed heavily. "Miyuki." she -- Miyuki -- said curtly.

"I'm Izaya. I've come very far to meet you."

Miyuki scoffed. "I think you mean _my husband_. Now tell me what you want so you can get out of my house."

"It's like I said. I think Renjaku-"

"Well, he's not," she snapped, cutting Izaya off. "No matter how much you want to believe it, Renjaku is not and will never be your dad. He is a father to _my children_ , not you. He is _my husband_ , not whatever Water Tribe woman he accidentally slept with."

"Miyuki-san-" her eye twitched in disgust at that "-you have to see the resemblance. I look just like your kids."

Miyuki's glare went from indifferent to enraged in a second. "Don't you _ever_ compare yourself to my children," she screeched, standing and slamming her hands on the coffee table. The lit candles in the middle flickered softly. "You may have his blood, but you are _not_ Renjaku's kid. You will _never_ be!"

The last piece of hope in Izaya's chest -- so tiny and fragile, like a piece of glass nearing its breaking point -- cracked. So close to shattering into a million shards, and primed to send dagger-sharp needles into his heart. "If Renjaku-san was here-" Izaya tried quietly only to get cut off again.

"Well, he's not, not anymore!" she yelled, her voice breaking into the beginnings of a sob at the end. "But I can tell you that he wouldn't want you here anyway." Miyuki broke out into cruel laughter, jagged at the edges from how hysterical she was getting. "You know, four years ago, when Renjaku was on his deathbed, he told me about you. Or, your whore mother, at least." She sniffed loudly, tears running down her face. "He told me how he met her at the docks, about the night they spent together, even though I'm his _wife_. But do you know what else he told me?" She leaned in fractionally closer, "He regretted it, with all his heart."

She broke out into another grief-filled sob that sounded more like hysterical laughter in the tense air, but Izaya barely heard it. _"What was I thinking, expecting anything different from this?"_ he screamed at himself. _"Nothing could have come from this!_ Nothing _! Why am I getting my hopes up when it's so clearly hopeless?"_

The last fragment in Izaya's chest shattered.

"I just wanted a family," Izaya whispered, feeling anger begin to stir in the pit of his stomach, only to freeze into anguish. Distantly, he felt the temperature of the air drop, and crystalline flowers began forming at the edge of is untouched teacup. "That's all."

"Then go somewhere else," Miyuki sniffed, her voice nasally and cold. "You're not going to find one here. You will never be a part of my family, and you will _never_ be an Orihara. Now go." Her mouth twisted into a snarl. She stood, grabbed her cup, and flung it at Izaya. The ceramic struck his collarbone, but he stopped the tea in midair. That only seemed to make her angrier. "Go!" she screamed, and this time, Izaya didn't hesitate to pick himself up and get out.

* * *

Izaya sat on one of the benches at the station, one leg pulled up to his chest while the other swung idly from the edge. Fluffy white snow flurries were falling from the sky, piling thick against the ground and onto Izaya's shoulders. It had started snowing almost an hour ago and showed no signs of stopping. The platform's lamps had finally been switched on, the lightbulbs buzzing loudly as flickering grey light illuminated the pitiful station.

He was waiting for the next train, intent on leaving this place behind. _"I don't need Himeru anyway,"_ he thought bitterly. He didn't need anyone. Not when they kept destroying what little of Izaya's reality he had left. He didn't need Kyouko or Shirou or Renjaku, and he sure as hell didn't need Miyuki. Why the hell would he want to be an Orihara anyway, other than out of spite, of course. Maybe he would steal that name away, take it for himself and tarnish it for generations to come. Miyuki seemed so _proud_ to call herself an Orihara, so what better revenge was there than to take the name for himself.

All Izaya needed was himself. He didn't need or want a family, not when all they brought was hurt.

Izaya was foolish to think they would be anything more than a painful weight over his shoulders, a burden that would only slow him down and cause him grief.

_"Who needs them?"_ Izaya thought, ignoring the lonely resentment growing in his chest. _"I can do whatever I want now! Whatever I want to do, and no one will be there to stop me! I'll... I'll explore the world! That's what I'll do!"_ He would explore every continent on this earth, experience every culture he could find, live among people who he'd only ever read about! That sounded far better than what a family could provide!

...

Izaya hugged his leg a little closer and closed his eyes. _"I don't need a family."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so much fun to write. Also, I was trying to keep this under 7K words, and that clearly didn't work XD
> 
> Keep in mind that, based on the timeline, Izaya's about 14 in this chapter, a year younger than Shinra.
> 
> ALSO!!! I realized I made a big dumb mistake in chapter 3. Basically, I mixed up how the seasons work in the north and south poles. Winter in the south should be the opposite of how I described it. It should be sunny and warm, but because that would ruin the atmosphere of the scene, I'm gonna say that ATLA's south is actually our north. The north pole is the earth's magnetic south(shout out to grade 11 physics for teaching me that), so I'm gonna say that the people in ATLA took magnetic south and just labeled it south. Here's an article about magnetic north and south if you're interested: 
> 
> https://wtamu.edu/~cbaird/sq/2013/11/15/why-does-a-magnetic-compass-point-to-the-geographic-north-pole/
> 
> Now, onto the chapter :D

The city of Chengzhen was no stand out in the grand Earth Kingdom. It was a pitiful little town in an old warehousing district that the country had all but forgotten about. It used to be a city with a thriving economy and residents numbering in the thousands. But when the railroads were rebuilt fifty years ago, they were redirected, skipping over Chengzhen. From there, business slowly began to leave, and with it went the people.

Now, jobs were scarce, and more people were living below the poverty line than above it. The few people that were unfortunate enough to have stuck around were barely managing to live paycheck to paycheck, if they got paid at all. The schools set up in hopes of lifting kids out of poverty were empty, not that the schools had much to offer in the first place due to their minuscule budget. Youths that were supposed to be filling those classrooms were out in the streets, getting into trouble that no one held them accountable for.

Perhaps it was this culmination of factors that made Chengzhen a cesspool for underground activities. Drugs were handed out like candy on nearly every street corner, and the police didn't bat an eye as long as they got their share of addictive white powder. Women and men of various ages loitered around the streets, getting into cars and disappearing for a while before coming back, their wallets a little fuller. Bending in public had been all but decriminalized, and illegal cage fights were made famous in Chengzhen.

Chengzhen was a shitty little city in the middle of nowhere. Izaya had contemplated leaving before, back when he'd first arrived. But Chengzhen had become Izaya's "home" in the past year and a half, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

* * *

Izaya idly swung his legs from where he was perched on a tall chainlink fence that overlooked a scruffy park and an avenue of houses. The thin rubber soles of his shoes tapped lightly against the metal, making a sound just loud enough for Izaya to hear. 

He had long since outgrown the boots he'd started with from Apitu, now replaced by a much cheaper pair that still blistered his feet, no matter how many times he broke them in. His old ones were now sitting in a dumpster somewhere on the other end of the city, or maybe they were laced up on some other person's feet. His jacket was luckier. It was too big to begin with, so as the year passed, he grew into its too-big sleeves. His hands were stuck in his pockets, fiddling with the handle of the switchblade he always carried with him, just in case he couldn't bend himself a knife.

His eyes were sharp as they scanned the area, picking out even the slightest details.

There were a few teenagers playing power disc, ricocheting a crudely flattened brick across the fencing and into a makeshift goalpost. They were yelling and cussing at each other from opposite ends of the yellowed field, too caught up in their game to notice Izaya's staring.

Boarded up houses lined the adjacent street, the windows barricaded with wooden planks by the few rich enough to own them. A few tents and earth shelters were set up in front, in which several people were sleeping or sitting around, most likely high from whatever substance they had taken.

Several boys were loitering around a street corner, marijuana smoke streaming from their lips. They were all wearing the uniform from a town over, and the way they carried themselves stank of middle-class money. Izaya's eyes narrowed when he noticed one of the boys had a bridge piercing, along with several studs across his right ear. The boy also had an ugly, mottled bruise painted on his cheek. Izaya recognized him as one of the fighters from last week, a cocky fellow who thought that talking big enough would guarantee him the win. Yet despite his loss, he looked determined to redeem himself, his eyes glowing such confidence that it betrayed just how naive he was.

A grin stretched across Izaya's face. _"So he's come back for more, huh? If he takes another beating, I can convince him to work with me. Ah, what an unfortunate, idiotic soul."_ Izaya chuckled under his breath. These kinds of people were too easy.

His gaze wandered back to the other corner of the street, where a frazzled woman in her mid-twenties was handing baggies of white pills in exchange for yuan. Izaya quirked his brow. _"She's encroaching on Yang's territory. I wonder how he'll feel about that..."_ Smirking, he pulled out one of the many phones from the pocket of his jacket. Phones were a dime a dozen around these parts. Sure, all of them were crappy and likely had no value outside of Chengzhen, but they served their purpose well enough. He snapped a few pictures through the blurry lens, smirking when he considered what Yang would do upon finding out that some no-name woman was stealing his customers.

"Excuse me!" a sing-songy voice chirped from below, startling Izaya out of his thoughts. Scowling, Izaya looked down, only to come face to face with a kid he'd never seen before. The boy had an unruly mess of brown hair and glasses that were too big for his face. "Hello! Are you an illegal street fighter?"

Izaya blinked in surprise. Was this guy for real? Who the hell ran around saying those kinds of things? Rolling his eyes, Izaya ignored the boy and continued to watch the drug exchange. The woman was shaking now. How curious.

"Hello, I'm speaking to you! Hey!" Out of the corner of his eye, Izaya saw the boy waving his arms to catch Izaya's attention. "Please! I don't need details, just a yes or no works for me! Come on, at least tell me where you do all your fights so I can watch them! We're doing this documentary, and..." Izaya blocked him out after that, not bothering to listen to the boy ramble for much longer.

He'd heard about this documentary thing, and frankly, it pissed him off. With a film crew around recording everything that everyone did, people got skittish. They hid their true colours, acting as if they weren't the scum of the earth for the cameras, and it was boring as hell.

Suddenly, the boy was jumping, and his fingers managed to graze the side of Izaya's calf. Hissing in annoyance, Izaya gracefully jumped off the fence and began to stalk off, grumbling under his breath when the boy started to follow him.

"So, where are you headed? Oh, I'm Shinra Kishitani, by the way, what's you're name?"

"..."

"That's fine, I understand. Privacy and all." Izaya's scowl deepened. Clearly, _Shinra_ had no clue what the meaning of privacy was. "What bending art are you?"

"..."

"Let me guess... firebending? Come on, did I get it right? I have a one in three chance, so I'm feeling lucky!"

Having enough, Izaya ducked into a cramped alleyway, cringing when the stench of garbage hit his nose. He bent a stagnant puddle into makeshift crampons and ice claws and began to quickly scale the building.

"Oh, so you're a waterbender! You know, there aren't many waterbenders around here so -- hey, wait! Where are you going!"

Flipping up and onto the building's roof, Izaya walked away, leaving Shinra behind.

Izaya jumped from rooftop to rooftop, eventually making it to a tall building made of rotting wood and decaying bricks. It was once an old office building, but now it was just another run-down building where the homeless could take shelter. The lower floors of the building had all but collapsed, the rotting support beams wearing with age until they were all but unusable. Graffiti decorated the outside, some of them flowing pieces of art, but most were of crude words, and messily spraypainted phone numbers. The windows were mostly intact, but the one Izaya was aiming for was cracked open a few inches.

Bracing his knees much like an earthbender would, Izaya swung his arms up, bending water from the puddles and sewer grates below him to create a column of ice. It brought Izaya up into the air, just high enough for him to grab the ledge, push the window open, and haul himself in.

He landed gracefully inside, bending he ice back into water and brushing imaginary dust off his baggy pants.

The little living space he had made for himself wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. A futon he'd bought from a good store a few months ago was neatly rolled up in the corner next to a thin quilt with fraying threads. A battery-powered lantern and a packaged bun from the convenience store was sitting on a low table. There were also two reusable water bottles, one beside the futon, and one tipped over on the table. Both needed to be refilled.

Shrugging off his jacket, Izaya unrolled his futon and plopped down, stretching as a comfortable silence spread around him. He had a fight scheduled at Dàgē's place tonight, and he needed to get in the right headspace for it. After all, he had money to win.

Blinking up at the ceiling, he blindly reached for the packaged bread at his side, only for his hand to brush against soft fur. Izaya sighed out loud and turned his head, finding the angular face of an albino deer-mouse staring back at him. The little guy had made it a habit of invading Izaya's home ever since Izaya fed out of pity three months ago. He used to be so skittish around Izaya, darting around in the shadows and only ever getting close enough to smuggle a crumb or two from Izaya's meal.

Now, he didn't so much as hesitate to approach him, always coming to greet him the second Izaya got home. He was comforting to have as a little roommate, and coming back to him was something Izaya looked forward to. The deer-mouse chirped happily at Izaya's presence as if to say "welcome home", rubbing his cheek affectionately against Izaya's fingers. He scampered over to Izaya's side, and without hesitation, comfortably climbed onto Izaya's stomach.

Izaya frowned, more for show than actual annoyance. "Oh, no, you don't." He snatched the bread away, grinning when the deer-mouse chittered softly, tugging on Izaya's shirt gently. "You're not getting any more. Go find your own food." Ignoring Izaya's orders, the he hopped up closer to brush ticklishly against Izaya's neck, squeaking loudly in Izaya's ear in indignation. He could feel the sharp edge of his hind hooves digging into his breast bone, but Izaya didn't mind. Chuckling under his breath, Izaya relented, sitting up to pull open the package.

"Ok, but just one bite." He sat up, causing the little deer-mouse to tumble into his lap, and tore off a small piece, his eyes softening when the deer-mouse snatched it out of his hands and began nibbling at it. "You're eating me out of house and home here, little guy," he murmured, stroking the fur on his forehead while being mindful of the sharp antlers on his head. The deer-mouse just closed his eyes in content, happily eating his portion. Izaya let out a huff of amusement, taking a bite of his own.

The sun was still hovering above sunset, so Izaya still had a few hours to kill before he had to go to Dàgē's. With his bread finished, he leaned back and pulled out one of his phones, while the deer-mouse curled up at his side, his comfortable, warm presence squashing some of the bitter loneliness that quiet nights sometimes brought with it.

Izaya was scrolling through various headlines of whatever global news was worth looking at when another phone in his jacket buzzed. Pawing at the pockets, Izaya eventually withdrew an old flip phone with a tacky silver cover on it. It was the phone he used for his betting ring, separate from Dàgē's.

[hows tonight looking] the screen read. It was from Nakura, Izaya's idiotic business partner from the town over.

{Everything will go accordingly as long as you played your hand correctly.}

[sweet]

[ill bring the cash tonight]

[good luck]

Izaya rolled his eyes. Nakura texted like a teenage girl. Sometimes, Izaya wondered why he was even in business with him. Oh well. Izaya could cut Nakura off anytime he wanted to, and it wouldn't be hard, either. But for now, he was useful. Nakura had time and money on his hands, commodities that Izaya could manipulate for his own gain. Plus, Nakura's constant blabbermouth had its upsides, as it helped to drum up business outside of Chengzhen. As long as Dàgē never heard of it, profits would continue to come in smoothly.

He had set up his betting ring a few months after he first arrived in Chengzhen. Pools like the one Dàgē had set up were alright on the surface, but nearly half of the profits were skimmed off and placed into Dàgē's pocket, leaving little for everyone else. With his own pool, Izaya could control how much cash was flowing in and out, leading to much higher profits for himself, and by proxy, Nakura.

Setting down his phone, Izaya splayed his arms out on his futon and closed his eyes. Even though he wasn't all that tired, a nap would probably do him some good. 

He set a alarm on his phone and allowed his eyes to drift shut, counting in his head as he slowly began to doze off. He barely made it to one hundred before he was asleep.

* * *

The abandoned warehouse that Dàgē used as his fighting pit was dimly lit with muted green lights. It could have easily been mistaken for any other abandoned building, with its rusted metal exterior and foggy windows.

Only today, there was a van parked outside, marked with a logo for some production company that Izaya didn't recognize. The back of it was open, revealing cameras and monitors, capturing everything they saw through their lenses. _"Damn,"_ Izaya thought, scowling as he hurriedly entered the building, pulling his thermal mask up higher over his nose to conceal his face. _"They're already here? That'll affect the bettings."_

He rushed into the middle of the building and tapped his foot in a rhythmic pattern on the floor. A second later, the ground began to tremble as the earthbending guard bent the earth away from beneath him, revealing a hidden set of stairs. The guard nodded in recognition to Izaya before sealing the passage back up.

"Oi," Izaya said in a monotone voice. "The crew out there. Is Dàgē letting them in?" The man shrugged, keeping silent. Izaya pursed his lips but moved on. Izaya wouldn't be surprised if he was. The man would do anything to make a few yuan, even if it meant selling out.

Skipping lightly down the steps, Izaya eventually made it to a massive dugout beneath the building. It was a carved out rectangle of space, with a raised, caged dome in the centre. A few musty stands were placed around it, but they were mostly empty.

A bar selling cheap booze was in the corner, and Izaya could just make out Dàgē sitting on one of the stools with two scantily clad women feeling up his sides. Izaya had always carried a distaste for the long-haired man, but there was also begrudging respect. Dàgē owned the biggest fighting pit in the city, and if he hadn't offered Izaya a spot in his cage, who knew where he'd be now.

Above the bar was a massive scoreboard that showed all the bets and matchups for the night. Beneath the names were the odds of each person winning, which corresponded to the payouts. Beside that was the total betting pool for the match. 

Izaya clicked his tongue when he saw how small the pool was tonight. As he'd suspected, people had been scared off by the film crew. Thankfully, though, he had thought about that. Most of the people in his own pool weren't residents of Chengzhen and would have no way of knowing that the film crew even existed. Because of this, they were still betting like they usually did, carelessly and with little thought.

Izaya watched boredly as Dàgē called out the first two matches, and both were horribly dull. All the fighters were nervous with the cameras watching their every move, making their movements sloppy and subpar. The monotony of amateur fights was broken up when the boy with the piercings stepped into the ring. His bending was a little more strategic than last weeks, and he even managed to get in a few blows. But the earthbender he was up against was more experienced, and it only took a matter of minutes to crush him. 

Finally, Dàgē's voice came back onto the speakers to announce Izaya's fight.

"Next in the ring, we have a rookie challenger vying for the win, the Yellow Dragon!" Several people whooped and cheered as a stick-thing young woman with a clay dragon mask covering the top half of her face stepped into the ring. The woman lifted her fist triumphantly, then slammed her foot into the ground, causing massive boulders to lift from the earth in the shape of a twisting dragon. She rode the beast around into a circle to hype up the crowd.

All according to plan. The girl -- Huáng Lóng -- was another contestant who Izaya was working with to rig the betting pool. For the past few days, Izaya had worked to ensure that the odds for him winning appeared low, taking a few strategic losses to stack the chances in Huáng Lóng's favour. That way, the payout ratio if Izaya won would be far higher than usual. Then, Izaya bet on himself for both him and Huáng Lóng, so when they won, they could split their profits. Add onto that his own betting circle, and Izaya could see high winnings at the end of the night.

When the cheering died down, Dàgē's voice came back onto the speaker. "And the Yellow Dragon's mighty adversary and one of our house favourites, Chrome!"

Izaya took a deep breath and ran into the ring, where a massive vat was waiting for him for the technical demonstration. Izaya quickly bent the water into his hands, manipulating the weight of it with ease into a giant sphere above his head. He bent some more under his feet, using it as a trampoline to launch himself into the air. With the added momentum, Izaya flipped, gaining power as he punched the water into the ground. The water crashed against the floor like a waterfall, and Izaya froze it mid-action, creating a giant splash that was frozen in time. He gracefully landed in the middle, then swirled his arms to create a raging cyclone at his feet that lifted him around the arena.

The crowd went into another furious uproar. These little beginning demonstrations were in place to hype up a crown, and coax out any last-minute bets.

"That was amazing!" a muffled but familiar voice yelled. Izaya spared a glance to his left and found the boy from earlier, cheering and waving beside a man with a... gas mask? Izaya ignored the boy as best as he could, but he could still feel those eyes boring into his back.

"Remember," Dàgē's voice boomed as Izaya and Huáng Lóng readied themselves on opposite sides of the ring -- Huáng Lóng bracing her knees wide, while Izaya bent himself a makeshift pair of brass knuckles. "This is a sudden death round, last one conscious wins and no tap outs. Place your final bets, people." Izaya nodded subtly to Huáng Lóng, who nodded back. _"There's no need to drag this on for too long,"_ was their mutual understanding. The bell dinged. "Begin!"

Huáng Lóng threw the first blow, as she usually did. That was one thing Izaya would always appreciate about her: Huáng Lóng never half-assed a fight. Her foot hit the ground hard, sending up two medium-sized boulders which she punched in Izaya's direction. Reacting quickly, Izaya bent two rings of water around himself and sent out twin water whips to slingshot the rocks back at her.

When that didn't work, Huáng Lóng slammed her hands against the ground, creating a rippling wave of crumbling earth. Izaya narrowed his eyes, timing it in his head, then leapt into the air. She struck the ground again, sending up another boulder which she punched in his direction, bending it into the shape of a spear. Redirecting the spear into the ground, he shot several of his own from the ring surrounding him. The two aimed at her face missed, blocked by a half-formed shield, but the third and fourth hit her shoulder, sending her careening sideways.

Taking advantage of her distraction, Izaya landed and kicked out his foot, sending a wall of spiked ice toward Huáng Lóng's prone form. But she jumped out of the way right before it could hit her, rolling to the side. She clenched her fist, and the ground beneath Izaya's feet started to crumble.

Thinking quickly, Izaya used the two rings around him as extensions of his limbs in a modified octopus form, using them to hang to the chains at the top of the dome. He pulled himself up until he could grasp at the chains. With his feet, he shot out two jets of water, freezing them when they struck Huáng Lóng's legs. Before she could free herself, Izaya twisted his hips and bent the rest of the water from the vat around her. Once she was trapped, Izaya froze everything except her head.

She struggled in vain for a bit, but the cold and lack of oxygen was getting to her. The clay mask she was wearing began to drift off her face, and just as her eyes started to cloud, Iazya released her, her body falling to the floor, limp.

"We have a winner!" The bell dinged twice, and Izaya raised his hand victoriously. A few people sitting in the stands began to hurriedly make their way toward the ring, all carrying what looked like medical equipment down with them. _"I guess that means I don't have to help her,"_ Izaya thought as he took his victory lap around the arena, skating along the ground with ice he had bent.

He had just come to a stop when the chains in front of him suddenly rattled violently, making him jump.

"Oh, my God." Shinra beamed up at him, his eyes sparkling. "That was amazing! Your bending is _amazing_!" he exclaimed, parroting what he said earlier. "Not even pro-bending fights get that violent!"

Izaya hummed dismissively, not really paying attention. He wanted to go to the bar and claim his winnings, not entertain this weird kid. "Hey, listen, I'd love to talk to you if you don't mind," Shinra continued. "Can we meet outside a little later? Just to chat, of course. There'll be no cameras, I promise."

Izaya narrowed his eyes, inspecting the boy cautiously. He didn't know Shinra well enough to get a gauge of his character, but from what little he'd seen, Izaya didn't trust him. He had a loose tongue judging by how much he liked to chatter. Add onto that the fact that he was with the documentary crew, and Izaya had no reason to trust him.

He at least gave Shinra the decency of a shake of his head before heading out of the arena, ignoring Shinra's whining protests. Izaya skipped his way over to the bar, where Dàgē was handing out everyone's winnings.

"Good job, Orihara," Dàgē rumbled, his voice low and raspy from years of cigarettes. He flipped through a few yuan notes before handing a thick stack to Izaya. "You never disappoint." Izaya nodded, turning to leave only to be stopped when a large hand came to rest at his shoulder. "I'm curious, though." Dàgē's eyes narrowed dangerously, and his grip tightened, but Izaya kept his face carefully neutral. "Things're always going in your favour. You got a secret?"

"I trust in myself, that's all," Izaya responded, unintimidated by Dàgē's cold stare. "Perhaps I have luck on my side."

Dàgē rasped out a chuckle, a sneer stretching over his face. "I like you, Orihara. No one in their right mind should, but I do." His eyes narrowed to slits, and his sneer turned feral. "And because I like you _so fucking much_ , I'll give you a word of advice." He turned Izaya around with a rough tug, pulling at Izaya's arm wrong and making him hiss. "Don't try to stiff people of a profit, boy. I generously overlook most of your little _schemes_ here, but other people won't take too kindly of it. Quit pushing your luck, Orihara." 

Izaya swallowed thickly, pushing down the urge to flinch when the man's suffocating breath ghosted against his face like a touch, smelling of acrid smoke and thinly veiled warnings. He nodded quickly, ducking his head as a sign of submission, and Dàgē eased off. "Get out of here, kid." Dàgē lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale. "Isn't it past curfew for you?" He gave Izaya a yellowed smile, and Izaya took it as his cue to leave.

* * *

Izaya spent the rest of his night roaming the streets of Chengzhen, hopping from perch to perch to observe to city's lively nightlife. Usually, he would stay in the pit until dawn, watching the fascinating characters that frequented Dàgē's spot. But it was boring there tonight, and Izaya figured that he would find better entertainment in the streets.

He portioned off the bills in his hands to Nakura, who looked more skittish than normal with all the cameras around, and Huáng Lóng, who looked peeved and a little worse for wear, but otherwise alright. Nakura handed over a wad of bills of his own, profits from their private ring. The people outside Chengzhen were still betting like usual, so even though they didn't make too much, it was still better than what others were walking away with.

Now, Izaya was lying on his futon again, the deer-mouse nestled against his chest and making soft squeaking noises when Izaya stroked his back. Dawn was just beginning to crest over the horizon, casting white light through the chipped window that refracted into a rainbow against the far wall.

Here, in the calm of his dingy little living space, Izaya finally had the time to think about Shinra. "I wonder why he singled me out," he murmured out loud. "It's not like I'm all that special... what do you think?" He craned his head to look at the deer-mouse, who shuffled a little closer and squeaked as if to agree. His eyes softened when he looked down at the little guy, bringing his hand up to gently stroke its snow-white pelt. "Yeah," he huffed, stroking at the base of an antler. "I think he's crazy, too. You weren't there, but the look in his eyes was manic."

He chuckled softly, rolling onto his side. "He probably just wanted something out of me. Maybe an interview for the documentary? Or they needed to get some b-roll footage, and they put him up to it. Feh, for all we know, he was just some crazy kid." His companion chirped softly, wriggling closer to press against Izaya's chest, offering what little comfort it could. "...Do you think he'll come back?"

He didn't expect a response, of course, but the silence was more disappointing than he wanted to admit.

* * *

 _"He's back again."_ Izaya side-eyed Shinra for a split second before ducking under a stream of flame. With a right hook, Izaya's fist made contact with his opponent's side. There wasn't much power behind it, but it hit right at the kidney, sending his opponent onto his knees as he writhed in pain. When the other didn't get up, the bell dinged, and Izaya hurried out of the cage.

Shinra had made an appearance to every single one of Izaya's fights for the past week, cheering him on from the sidelines and ambushing him after every match so they could talk. His stubbornness was beginning to wear down at Izaya's cold shoulder, and little by little, the idea of talking to the boy with the manic grin didn't seem so terrible. But Izaya's rational brain knew it was a stupid thought that he shouldn't entertain more than he already was.

When he neared the bar, Dàgē handed him his winnings. It was hard not to feel a little disappointed by how thin the stack was. Since his and Dàgē's chat, Izaya had made a conscious effort to ease up on his rigged fights. He was getting overzealous as it was, so it was probably the right decision. He didn't stop completely, of course, but he was already beginning to feel its effects. 

That was why he had told Nakura to gather a few more tight-lipped people for his own ring. Even if he stopped tipping fights into certain people's favours, if he had more money in the pool, he could skim off more profits, and the people involved would be none the wiser. As long as Dàgē was kept out of the know, everything would run smoothly. But if he _were_ to find out... Izaya didn't want to think about that.

He ignored the feeling of Dàgē's eyes burning holes into his back, convincing himself that it was just a coincidence and that Dàgē suspected nothing.

He skipped up the steps by two as he raced to the surface, intent on disappearing into the night before Shinra could catch up with him. But, luck was not on his side tonight, because when he turned the corner, he ran headfirst into Shinra, knocking the other boy over.

"Hah!" Shinra triumphantly said even though he'd just fallen flat on his ass. "I finally caught you!"

"What do you want from me," Izaya snarled defensively, pulling out his switchblade and pointing threateningly at him.

Shinra squeaked and scrambled backward, putting his hands up. "Wait! Please don't hurt me!" he wailed, flinching when Izaya took a step closer. "I-I'm don't want anything, I swear."

"Then why do you keep following me?"

"I just want to talk! I've never wanted anything else!"

Izaya frowned, lowering the sharp edge of his blade fractionally. "Why," he demanded, tilting his head in confusion. "Go talk to someone else."

"Ah, but I'd like to talk to you!" Shinra adjusted his glasses and warily stood, keeping his eyes trained on the knife Izaya still had aimed to his throat. "Just talk. No cameras or microphones or anything, I'll keep everything you say a secret, I promise."

"Feh, and I'm just supposed to trust you?" Izaya said coldly.

"Yes!" Shinra said immediately, taking Izaya aback for a second. "You can pat me down if you want." He held out his arms to expose his torso. "Go on, I don't have anything to hide." Still filled with distrust, Izaya gave Shinra a quick pat-down, only to find nothing. "See? I just want to talk."

Izaya sighed, warily checking his surroundings. "Fine," he relented. Shinra's eyes sparkled brightly despite Izaya's gruff tone. "Let's go somewhere else first."

* * *

Through Shinra's persistence, he and Izaya become...friends? Could Izaya call it that? He wasn't very sure. Then again, Izaya only had Tsukumoya to compare to. 

Shinra hardly knew anything about him. Izaya had only just told him his last name was Orihara, and that was the most personal piece of information Shinra knew. But even if they were little more than strangers, Shinra was relentlessly friendly, so Izaya was willing to tentatively call them friends.

Though they only knew each other for two weeks, Shinra had made an effort to come and find Izaya nearly every day. Sometimes, he ran into Izaya while he was people-watching in the park, or stalked him outside of Dàgē's place. It was the most time Izaya had spent with one person consistently in years. And while Shinra's presence was usually a tiring annoyance, it was also surprisingly soothing.

Additionally, in that short time, Izaya was able to learn a fair bit about the bespeckled boy, including his obsession with some woman Izaya had never met and his golden-haired friend. Izaya was particularly interested in that last one, mainly because he hated his bending. Izaya had found it odd when Shinra had mentioned it. To him, bending was an integral part of his life. It made his income in Chengzhen and made him an equal with his peers in Apitu. If Izaya were to ever lose his bending, he would feel like he'd lost a massive part of himself.

Today, Izaya had finally relented to Shinra's wishes and had brought Shinra into his home. They were both sitting, Shinra on the table and Izaya on his futon. The deer-mouse had settled comfortably in the crook of Izaya's lap, grooming itself with its tiny paws.

Izaya also had his silver phone in his hands, fiddling with it anxiously as he waited for a text from Nakura. _{How many people have you told about us?}_ Izaya had texted it to him over two hours ago, and still hadn't gotten a response. 

He usually used the idiot's constant bragging to his advantage. Izaya had strictly instructed Nakura to only tell _a few people_ , but that idiot had gone way overboard. Word of Izaya's betting pool had spread, possibly all the way to Chengzhen. And if Dàgē found out, it would be Izaya's ass on the line. 

Unlike Nakura, Izaya wasn't stupid. He knew that Dàgē had connections to the Nítǔ Triad -- one of the largest criminal organizations in the Earth Kingdom. Who knew what would happen to him if Dàgē wanted revenge.

"O-ri-ha-ra-kun~" Izaya lifted his head when Shinra waved a pre-packaged sandwich in front of his face tauntingly. He frowned and snatched it out of Shinra's hands, opening it and picking off a corner of bread for the deer-mouse, who was now licking Izaya's fingers in a makeshift grooming. "Are you even listening to me?"

Izaya made a face. "I don't want to hear you ramble about your 'girlfriend'," Izaya out the word in air quotes, "more than I already have. Talk about your blond friend, and maybe I'll pay more attention."

"Hmm, you're looking more distant today."

"Like you'd know what that looks like," Izaya scoffed, taking a bite of the dry sandwich.

"Mm, well, I can imagine it!"

Izaya rolled his eyes. "Just a lot of stuff going on," he muttered begrudgingly.

"Oh. Can I know?" Izaya gave him a flat look, and Shinra wilted. "Come on, you know I won't tell anyone!"

"Trust me," Izaya said grimly, "you don't want to get involved in this."

He perked up when his phone buzzed, setting down his food and not caring when the deer-mouse hopped over to steal more of his sandwich.

[not many] Nakura wrote.

[no more than i usually do]

[one of them might have family in chengzhen but idk]

[why]

[is there trouble]

Izaya hissed frustration, feeling his heart jump into his throat. _"I'm fucked, aren't I?"_

{Evidently, your constant prattling could get me killed.} he typed irritably, catching the nail of his thumb between his teeth when the first wave of icy anxiety washed over him. {We're shutting down while I sort some things out. Lay low, and tell everyone that we've ceased operations for the time being. This isn't up for argument.}

[but what about all the money they gave me for the pool]

[theyre gonna want it back]

{So give it back to them. It's not hard.}

[i cant]

[i dont have it anymore]

[ive already spent my portion] The last three texts came in quick succession one after the other.

{Deal with it. I'm sorting out other issues right now.}

[come on]

[you have to help me]

[theyll kill me if i cant get it back for them]

Izaya rolled his eyes and flipped his phone shut, ignoring the constant buzzing that followed.

"Orihara-kun?" The sudden sound of Shinra's voice reminded Izaya that he was there. His head was tilted in confusion, and there was the faintest glimmer of concern in his gaze. "Is everything ok?"

"Peachy," Izaya grimaced, gently placing the mouse in his lap at the head of his futon before getting up. "You need to leave," he said stiffly, pushing open the window and leaving little room for argument. "Stay away from me for a while," he added after a second. The last thing he needed was to get Shinra wrapped up in all this mess.

"Has something happened?"

"To put it lightly, yes." Izaya stuck his head out the window to make sure no one was around. "So, you should try and avoid being seen with me. It won't do either of us any good."

"...Alright," Shinra said, standing.

With a bit of tricky maneuvering, Izaya brought Shinra safely back to the ground. The second his feet met solid earth, Shinra took a few steps away and held up his hand in goodbye.

"I guess I'll see you around, Orihara-kun."

Izaya was silent for a second, memorizing the details of Shinra's face. Maybe this would be the last time he saw another friend. "Yeah," he said, but his voice sounded strange in his ears. "Bye, Shinra."

* * *

The young man shuffled away quickly, his back hitting the chainlink fence with a harsh rattle. His eyes widened with fear, and he flinched back when Izaya's boot kicked the fence just inches away from his face. Izaya leaned down, his gaze cold and his nose just a breath away.

"I-I didn't tell him, I swear!" the man stammered, yelping when Izaya unsheathed his blade. "I didn't, I _didn't_ ! I fucking _hate_ Dàgē, why the hell would I warn him about something that would ruin his business!"

"Who did it then?" Izaya demanded.

"I don't know!" the man wailed, looking ready to burst into tears. Clicking his teeth under his breath, Izaya rammed his heel into the man's nose, ignoring the pained cry that followed.

For the past week, this was all that Izaya had done: cornering everyone Nakura had told and shutting them up, sometimes with force. So far, he had tracked down nine people who were apparently interested in joining Izaya's pool, and he knew of four others. How Nakura managed to spread the word to far so quickly was beyond Izaya, but he didn't have time to wonder how he got himself into this mess. Now, he needed to focus on mending it.

He was still laying low, cancelling fights at Dàgē's place and making himself scarce. But he knew it could only go on for so long before Dàgē came looking for him. From what he'd heard on the streets, Dàgē definitely knew of Izaya's pool, and he didn't sound too pleased about it. But he didn't know where Izaya lived, only where he frequented around the city. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

Grumbling under his breath, he turned the corner, ignoring the steady seep of blood leaking from the man's nose. He glanced at the sky and felt his sour mood worsen. The last thing he needed was to get caught by Dàgē after dark.

Izaya felt the presence behind his shoulder when he turned the corner. His eyes narrowed as his focus singled in on the figure lurking in the shadows of a dank alley, watching as it silently began to follow him. Unnerved, Izaya picked up his pace and braced his fingers around the hilt of his knife.

He was just about to cross the street when a second figure made their presence known, crouched beside a fence and watching his every move. Izaya didn't need to see their faces to know they were with Dàgē.

_"Shit!"_ his mind spat. _"Just my fucking luck."_ Without a second thought, Izaya took off, veering into a narrow alley and vaulting over heaps of reeking trash. Behind him, he heard one of them call to the other, and thundering footsteps began to follow him.

Izaya just managed to escape the alley when one of them bent the mouth of it shut, slipping past the wall before it could crush him into a bloody pulp. Racing ahead into another tight street, he glanced behind him and found that the two thugs chasing him were no longer there.

Unfortunately for him, with his focus set behind him, he didn't see the broad-shouldered figure of Dàgē standing in front of him. Izaya slammed headfirst into Dàgē's chest, hissing in pain as a too-tight grip locked around his arms. The earth beneath him surged up to hold his legs in place, ensnaring Izaya in a trap.

"Woah there," Dàgē sneered. "What're you doing out so late, Orihara?"

"Fuck off," Izaya snarled, cold fear racing down his spine as he lashed out in panic. "Let me go!"

The earth wall behind him crumbled, and the two men who had just been chasing him climbed out. "You two can go," Dàgē said, not taking his eyes off Izaya for a second. "I can handle this from here." Both men quickly obeyed, slipping back, unseen into the shadows.

"You know, I've been lookin' all over for you," Dàgē said, ignoring Izaya's struggles. "But, I'll admit, you were tougher to pin down that I thought you'd be, you little elephant rat." His nails dug into the flesh of Izaya's arms. "You're actin' all strange lately, runnin' around, pullin' out of fights, hiding from me. Tell me, what's got you so nervous, Orihara."

"Nothing," Izaya spat fiercely. "Do my whereabouts trouble you that much? If I'd known, I would have left a note."

Dàgē barked a laugh. "Ah, Orihara, you're a funny one." Without warning, Dàgē grabbed Izaya's right arm and twisted it behind Izaya's back, then pinned him to the wall. "You and I both know what you've been hidin' from me," Dàgē growled in Izaya's ear. "You seriously thought you could just get away with stealin' from _me_?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Izaya wheezed, his ribs yelping in pain when Dàgē pressed him harder into the wall. Right now, all Izaya could do was deny. Deny, deny, deny, lie his way through this encounter so he could see another day. "Do you think I'm dumb enough to try and steal from -- ghack!" Dàgē slammed the side of Izaya's head into the bricks, making Izaya's vision fuzz, and his head exploded with pain.

Dàgē clicked his tongue. "Tryin' to play dumb, huh? Oi, brat!" Izaya's eyes widened when, from around the corner, Nakura's shaking figure stepped into the light. His back was hunched, and his knees were drawn in, and the one eye that wasn't black and bloody was darting about restlessly. Another mottle bruise was visible on his jaw, and his nose looked like an ugly, rotten blueberry. "You know this brat, don't ya?"

A wave of anger washed Izaya's vision red and swept away the exploding pain from his temple. Nakura had sold him out.

"Don't look at me like that," Nakura whispered. "I had no other choice! Everyone back at home wanted their money back! A-And I couldn't get it to them in time. But then Dàgē showed up, and he said he would pay for everything if I told him who was running the ring, and... You have to understand, I couldn't do anything else!"

_"Traitor!"_ Izaya's mind roared, but before he could say anything, one of Dàgē's hands made a fist in his hair and lifted him off the wall.

"Ready to admit it?" A self-satisfied smirk spread across Dàgē's face, so Izaya didn't give him the pleasure of an answer. "I always knew you were a little parasite." The earth trapping his feet suddenly disappeared, and he found himself landing face-first into the grimy pavement. The hand made a reappearance in his hair. "Leeching off of everyone around you."

Izaya braced himself for another strike, but it never came. "You should be damn grateful that I'm letting you off easy. All I'm asking is that you stop the little pool you've got goin' on, and pay what you owe me." _"I don't owe you anything,"_ Izaya wanted to snap, but he held his tongue. "I want rent for my arena during the time you were using it for your little middle school gambling ring, plus all the profits you made with it. I think that's only fair." _"Fuck, that's a lot of yuan."_

"And, as an added bonus, I even got you a second job so you can pay it back even faster!" The deranged cheerfulness in Dàgē's tone was unsettling. Around here, the only profitable jobs were cage fights, and... Izaya began to sluggishly struggle anew, but Dàgē effortlessly overpowered him. "Aw, don't be like that, Orihara! With a pretty face like yours, you'll be able to pay me back in no time!"

By now, the moon had risen to well over the horizon, fat and shining like an old silver coin. Of course. How could he have forgotten that tonight was a full moon!

Instantly, he went still, feigning defeat well enough for Dàgē to let out another raspy laugh. "That's right, there's no use fighting it now. Qíngfù's already got a spot for you in her brothel, isn't that nice of her?" While Dàgē continued his smug ramblings, Izaya slowly began to bend the water around him, drawing it up the walls of the tall buildings around him. He had to fight to maintain his concentration and control over the water, especially since he had to bend it all with his mind.

When there was finally enough, Izaya swiftly bent it into a jagged piece of ice and lobbed it off the roof of a building straight at Dàgē's head. It struck the nape of his neck with a sickening crack, and when he landed, Izaya quickly used the ice to pin Dàgē where he was laying. Nakura made a fearful noise, pinning himself as close as he could to the wall as if it would make him look like a smaller target, but Izaya ignored him.

With the world still swimming around him, Izaya stumbled to his feet. He needed to run while Dàgē was still dazed. _"Run. I need to run!"_ With a groan of effort, Izaya moved as fast as he could, zigzagging his way through the familiar streets while his vision blurred in and out of focus.

_"Where do I go?"_ Izaya thought blearily as he just managed to stop himself from slamming into a dumpster. _"My usual spots will be too easy to trace, so I can't go there. And I can't go back home because they could track me there, then the only safe space in this godforsaken place would be ruined. Fuck, the deer-mouse is still there! What about him? Will he think that I've abandoned him? I have to go back! I have to get him!_ _"_ He was about to round the next corner that would take him to the apartment, but the clatter of noise behind him stalled him in his tracks.

If he went back now, he wouldn't have the time to get the deer-mouse and escape. He could only choose one.

He felt his hear plummet with despair as he was forced to keep running. He imagined the little guy, his only companion, curled up next to his futon, waiting for him, and the pitiful, abandoned squeaks as it realized that Izaya wasn't coming back. _"Fuck,"_ Izaya thought, blinking back the stinging in his eyes. _"It'll be ok, it'll be ok... He's survived without me, he'll be ok..."_ It was a weak comfort that ached more than anything, but it was enough to push Izaya to keep moving.

Izaya continued stealthily along the streets and eventually staggered to the dimly lit motel that the film crew was staying at. _"Shinra! Maybe he can shelter me while I figure out what the hell I'm going to do."_ Izaya limped toward the building, avoiding the armed guard standing watch at the front. The motel was thankfully small enough that finding Shinra wouldn't take too long.

Picking up pebbles and small rocks, Izaya lobed them at the windows, praying that, at some point, Shinra's face would pop into the glass. He was at the second to last room when Izaya spotted the familiar face with too-big glasses.

Shinra's eyes squinted out into the darkness for a second before his gaze settled on Izaya. His eyes went wide, then he quickly pushed the curtains shut. Not a minute later and Shinra was jogging outside in a pair of shorts and a wrinkled, short-sleeve button-up.

"Orihara-kun?" Shinra hissed into the darkness as he approached. "Is that you?"

"Who else would it be," Izaya snapped. Shinra opened his mouth to say something, but Izaya cut him off. "I need your help," he said bluntly, "just let me stay in your room for a few hours, that's all I'm asking."

Shinra made a face that was half a grimace, half a look of sympathy. "I'm really sorry, Orihara-kun, but I can't. Celty's in there, and I don't want to scare her by bringing in someone covered in blood. How did you get that, by the way?" Izaya blinked in confusion, forgetting for a second that his head was still steadily leaking a tacky mess over his face.

"Shinra..." Izaya felt his words get stuck in his throat. The constant whispering in the back of his mind, telling him not to rely on anyone, was tightening a vice around his throat until he couldn't breathe. "I need help. _Please_ ," he grated. "I... did some things to some people, and now they're after me. I don't have anywhere else to go..."

Shinra looked pensive for a second before nodding. "Stay right there, I'll be right back," he ordered while already stepping back to the motel. He returned a few minutes later with a jingling key in one hand and a thick leather wallet in the other. "Come on." Without waiting for permission, Shinra grabbed Izaya by the wrist and dragged him around the corner of the motel to a near-empty parking lot.

He clicked a button, and one of the cars purred to life. "I can't hide you, but I can help you get out," Shinra said, pressing the keys into Izaya's hand. "I hope you can drive! And don't worry, it's just a rental." He pulled out several yuan notes from the wallet and handed those to Izaya as well. "This is as much as I can give you without it looking suspicious to my dad."

In a matter of seconds, Izaya was sitting in the driver's seat, the notes carefully tucked in one of his jacket's inner pockets, and his hands tingling from the teeth of the cold metal keys. "Now, all you owe me is a favour, and we'll be even!"

"Favour?"

"Yup! Give me your phone." Izaya hesitantly handed Shinra his personal phone. "One day, I'll come and find you to cash it in."

"And if I get rid of my phone?" Izaya challenged.

"Hm, I have a feeling you won't do that. Now get going, Orihara-kun!" Shinra patted the hood of the car and stepped back.

Izaya felt a swell of gratitude well up within him, more powerful than he'd felt in years. "Shinra," Izaya called, his voice sounding oddly choked. "It's Izaya. That's my given name."

"Hm?"

"You asked me when we first met. My name's Izaya."

"Oh, well, see you, Izaya-kun! Be careful on the road!"

Izaya nodded to him, as close to a bow as he could get while seated in the car, and took off. He had never driven before, but it wasn't too difficult to figure it out.

Pretty soon, Izaya was roaring down the roads, stepping on the gas like his life depended on it, leaving the pitiful little town of Chengzhen in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma add a little glossary section because there are a few things I want to translate:
> 
> Dàgē: Literally translates to Big Brother or Older Brother. I kinda wanted to do that thing where people call the boss of some criminal organization "big boss" cuz I thought that was cool, then I made it Chinese
> 
> Huáng Lóng: Literally translates to yellow dragon
> 
> Yellow Dragon: In Chinese culture, there are 5 known elements, and the colour yellow and dragons are both symbols for the earth element. Just thought it would be interesting :)
> 
> Qíngfù: Mistress in Chinese


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter :D Huge thanks to @KariHigada for beta reading this chapter!
> 
> TW: There are mentions of blood in this chapter, so if that makes you squeamish, tread carefully!!

At some point in the night, between the hours of early morning and first dawn light, the car began to slow, no matter how hard Izaya pressed against the gas pedal. Izaya blearily squinted at the dashboard, feeling nauseated by the blinking red light, signalling that the car was out of gas. Eventually, the car sputtered to a halt in the middle of a lonely road, and Izaya stumbled out.

The sudden movement flared blinding pain at his temple, and his stomach lurched, forcing him to his knees as he heaved out the contents of his stomach. Collapsing to his side, Izaya groaned and rubbed his eyes, willing himself to stay conscious. The last thing he needed was to fall asleep and accidentally slip into a coma, especially with the risk that he was still being pursued. Shakily, he dragged himself onto the grass, sighing when cold blades of grass grazed his heated skin.

With a weary gaze, he glanced back to the car. He was surprised he managed to drive for so long while nursing a concussion without crashing.

Hissing with effort, Izaya sat up and began to slowly collect dew into the palm of his hand. Despite learning simple healing skills while living in Qanuk, Izaya was absolutely terrible at the sub-skill. He didn't have the spirituality or the peace of mind to perform the technique effectively. As a result, no matter how hard he tried to channel the energy within him, his wounds refused to heal. Sighing in defeat, he let the water slip off his palm, not caring when it splashed against his leg. He weakly shifted into a lying down position, digging his nails into his palm to keep himself awake. 

He laid there for a while, watching the navy sky slowly brighten to a vivid pink, as he contemplated his next steps. He already knew that he wanted to go back to the South. That was something he'd decided in the brief lapses of clarity during his drive. Perhaps it was homesickness spurred on by the sudden loss of all he cared for in Chengzhen, or maybe it was the desire to return to familiarity.

Even if Izaya wasn't quite ready to go _home_ \-- out of shame that he hadn't found the family he longed for, and of fear that those he left behind would reject him -- his mind was already set. All he had to do was follow the path until he found a larger city, and board a ship bound to the South.

Sighing, he staggered to his feet. _'While I'm still here, I might as well check if the car has anything useful in it.'_ Stumbling to the car, Izaya all but fell into the driver's seat, exhausted. He rummaged around for what felt like hours, pawing at the cup holders, opening and closing small compartments, groping around under the grimy seats. 

In the end, all Izaya had to his name were: a near-dead phone with Shinra's number on it, a rolled-up wad of cash that amounted to about 200 yuan (barely enough to get him a ticket and a meal, let alone winter clothes), a half-pack of gum with a chewed-up piece stick to the foil (ew), a handful of coins worth 3.95 yuan, and a cheap pair of sunglasses with cloudy lenses. Izaya grimaced at the sad little pile of trinkets he'd racked up. He didn't expect much to begin with, but this was just sad. 

Izaya resignedly started to stuff everything into his pockets. He put on the sunglasses to stop the light from aggravating his headache and popping a piece of gum into his mouth to ease the nausea growing in his stomach.

Feeling a little less disgusting, Izaya zipped up his coat and set off on the road, continuing in the direction he'd been driving at. He had a lot of walking to do.

* * *

The first time he heard of the Auk hunting village was in a nameless town two weeks after he first came to the South.

"Auk?" Izaya furrowed his brows. He was well-versed in the South's geography and knew every famous village on this side of the continent, but he'd never heard of Auk.

"Yes!" the man at the marketplace nodded. "It's a village that's further South, and their hauls are incredible! Pelts without a scratch on them, and meat that tastes alive on your tongue! They brought this huge catch this morning!"

Izaya frowned, looking down at the selection before him: Puffin-seal, arctic-squirrel(he swallowed down a gag at that one), and something he couldn't quite identify. "What's that?"

"That, my friend, is Whale-walrus!" Izaya's eyes widened in surprise. _'Whale-walrus? How does a small hunting village manage to catch a Whale-walrus?'_ "Crazy, I know," the man continued. "Have you ever tried it? Because I must say, it's great when stewed with sea--"

"How did they catch it?" Izaya demanded. _'Maybe they bent the water around it to the surface? But they swim so deep, how would they even manage that? And whale-walrus' are known for destroying massive fishing boats, so how the hell did they even manage to bring one aboard!'_ The man blinked and shrugged. "Heh, if I knew, I'd be catching them myself! But-" he leaned in a little closer, "-rumour has it that they're a village of bloodbenders!" he whispered, as if he didn't dare utter the word. 

_'Bloodbenders?'_ Izaya scoffed internally. _'How ridiculous. Does this man expect me to believe that crap? Bloodbenders catching prey in the middle of summer?'_

Izaya couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous the man sounded. "Really," Izaya drawled, "And where might I find the _bloodbender_ who brought you this catch?"

The man's eyes shifted nervously. "They're long gone, kid. A-And it won't do you any good to go looking for them! They're a dangerous bunch, even if they don't look like it!"

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you!" Izaya said as he quickly waved and turned to walk away, ignoring the man's warning hiss to stay away from the bloodbenders. This Auk hunting village had piqued his interest. Even if they weren't bloodbenders, which wouldn't surprise Izaya in the slightest, there had to be a story behind that massive catch, and Izaya wanted to find out.

* * *

And so, Izaya continued to head south, moving from town to town on a makeshift ice-sled to question the locals about Auk. The further down he went, the more absurd and outlandish the stories became. And with each larger-than-life tale Izaya heard, his fascination grew. It felt as if the stories he'd read in the comforts of the Qanuk library were coming alive before his very eyes! The disbelief he'd once felt shrunk with every town he visited until he found himself slowly beginning to consider that this bloodbending village was more fact than fiction. 

Izaya was wandering the streets of the latest town he'd come across when a voice called to him from behind.

"Oi, brat!" Izaya turned his head slightly, just enough to glimpse at a short man glowering at him, his arms crossed and mouth twisted into a venomous sneer. "Are you the kid that keeps askin' about Auk?" 

Izaya turned and gave the man a pleasant but perplexed smile. "What?"

"Don't give me that bullshit." He reached out to grab Izaya's collar, but Izaya slipped out of his grasp. "Stop sniffin' around something that'll only get you in trouble." Izaya's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He had considered that Auk could be more trouble than it was worth. But evidently, Izaya hadn't learned his lesson from his last run-in with the seedier side of things, so he didn't waver at the man's threats.

"Are you sure you don't have me confused with someone else?" he asked innocently, carefully maintaining the distance between them. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap. You should know your place, _outsider_ ," the man spat, lunging forward to yank at Izaya's collar. The man opened his mouth to continue, only to be cut off by:

"Really, Yutu? You've stooped so low as to bully children?" The man in front of Izaya -- Yutu -- looked back, and his white-fisted grip on Izaya's jacket eased somewhat.

"Kine," he grunted to the bald man standing behind him, "I found the brat that's been askin' about us. And I'm shuttin' him up, not bullyin' him."

The other man -- Kine -- let out a long-suffering sigh. "Oh, quit scaring the kid. He's just curious, not causing any harm. How much could a scrawny kid like him do, anyway?" Kine's voice was low and gravelly, calm where Yutu's was bristling with anger.

"He could _report_ us," Yutu snapped, refocusing his slitted gaze onto Izaya, who was watching their exchange with interest. 

"The police haven't bothered us before, and they won't start now. Let the kid go, we're leaving soon." Yutu grumbled but reluctantly released his grip, shooting Izaya one last searing look as he left. 

"Ignore him," Kine said to Izaya. "He's obsessed with his _traditional way of life_." He gave Izaya a small, reassuring smile, probably meant to comfort him, not that Izaya needed it anyway. "Are you from around here, kid? I come here pretty often, but I've never seen you around before." Kine was giving Izaya an all too familiar look that said _'where are you really from._ '

"I'm from the Capital," Izaya said, feeling miffed that he, once again, had to justify that _yes_ he lived here, and _no,_ he wasn't a foreigner. "Not that it should matter to you."

"Oh, no, no, I didn't mean it like that," Kine said quickly, putting up his hands apologetically. "It's just that most families don't choose to move this far South, especially mixed families. My wife's Fire Nation, and she's the only person I know who decided to move this far South. A-Anyways, where are your parents?" Kine cleared his throat and dropped the awkward subject, adopting a sterner tone. "Kids your age shouldn't be wandering around at this time of day."

Izaya hummed noncommittally, deciding to humour this man. "Don't have any," he said casually.

"Grandparents? Any other guardians?" Izaya shook his head to both. 

"...How old did you say you were again?"

"I didn't."

Kine's brows furrowed, and a concerned look crossed his face. "Are you just wandering around the tundra alone? You've got nowhere to go?"

"Sure seems that way," Izaya chirped with put-on cheeriness. The worry on Kine's face deepened, reminding Izaya of the expression Shirou would sometimes get when Izaya told him about his escapades in Apitu. Izaya lowered his gaze before the ache of nostalgia could set in.

"Do you want to come with us, then?" Izaya blinked in surprise at Kine's sudden offer. He was expecting a few empty words of sympathy, maybe even some cash, but not this. "I won't force you, but you've been looking for Auk for a while now, right? Might as well let us take you there."

Izaya narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure it's safe to trust me? Maybe your friend was right, and I'll only cause you trouble," Izaya asked, more to see what Kine would say than a real challenge.

But Kine just shrugged. "I hate to break it to you, but you're not all that intimidating." Oh, if only he knew. "Besides, I'd feel terrible if I left you here alone. What's your name, kid?"

"Izaya Orihara," Izaya said, giving up the information without fuss. He liked Kine. He appreciated his blunt-yet-polite demeanour, and something about him reminded Izaya of simpler times. "You're seriously offering that I come with you?"

"That's what I said, right?"

Izaya hummed and gestured widely with his hand. "I suppose I have nothing better to do. Lead the way."

He followed Kine to the outskirts of town, where the low buildings ended, and the harsh tundra began. Two men and a woman were waiting for them next to two arctic-camels, both towing cargo sleds behind them.

"You've got a little shadow there, Kine," the woman called, eying Izaya with a mix of interest and apprehension. "Who is he?"

"It's that nosy little brat that's been stalking us across the tundra," Yutu spat. "What's he doing here?"

"This is Orihara," Kine said after shooting Izaya a warning glance to stay quiet. "He's coming with us."

The other man, while not looking hostile, didn't seem thrilled with Kine's sudden decision. "Are you sure, Kine? Isn't that kidnapping?"

"He doesn't have a family, Nukilik. It wouldn't sit well with me if we left him here."

"Aw, poor kid," the woman murmured, her words dripping with unwanted sympathy.

"There's nowhere for him to ride," Yutu said snappishly.

"He'll sit in the supply sled. Now let's get going, I want to be home before dinner." His words were final, offering no room for protest. 

While the others began saddling up, Izaya approached the sled behind Kine, grimacing when the stench of iron and fish hit his nose. Disgusted, Izaya bent some snow into a thick blanket of ice, so he wasn't sitting on any fishy remains. "You're a waterbender?"

"Clearly."

"Good," Kine nodded in approval. "You'll fit right in."

After securing the last of their equipment, the arctic-camels set off into the icy landscape, heading South toward the pole. The woman -- Amka -- was friendly, if a little wary, and had taken to interrogating Izaya, asking him all sorts of nosy personal questions. Izaya answered as charismatically as he could, all polite smiles and docile behaviour while simultaneously dodging every question she threw at him.

"Amka," Izaya pleasantly began while they were midway through their trip. "If it's not too rude of me to ask, why _are_ all of you so worried about being reported?" Was is smuggling? Endangered animal trafficking? Illegal bending practices?

"Ah, well..." Amka scratched the back of her head, letting out a suspicious little laugh. "That's -- "

"Not something to be discussed here." Yutu hissed, roughly shrugging off Nukilik's calming hand on his shoulders. "Keep your questions to yourself while we're outside the village walls." Izaya smirked at the fuming man when he turned away. In his opinion, people who riled up easily were the most enjoyable form of entertainment.

Eventually, the winds began to pick up, whipping shards of crystalline frost into Izaya's face. The clouds darkened angrily, and soon, they were in the middle of a complete whiteout. The cold blew right through Izaya's thin pants and bit nastily at exposed skin, chilling him to the bone. The most he could do was bend a protective dome around himself, but even then, by the time they made it to the village, Izaya's lips were blue, and his extremities were numb.

While his teeth were still chattering, Kine dismounted the arctic-camel. "Come on," he said, offering Izaya a hand which he gratefully accepted. "Let's get you warmed up before you freeze to death." Rubbing his ungloved hands in an attempt to regain some warmth, Izaya followed Kine through the village gates.

Auk was small for a hunting village. It was arranged in a circle, hardly one hundred fifty metres across, surrounded by a protective wall of ice. Low-roofed huts covered in tanned sealskins were sparsely dotted throughout, and a repurposed longhouse with a domed roof sat in the centre. Its curtains were drawn open to reveal children of varying ages reading textbooks and writing in notebooks around a blazing hearth. Wooden stables for polar-dogs and arctic-camels were near the gated entrance. _"Textbooks? Wood?"_ Izaya thought. _"A hunting village this far South is rich enough to afford all that?"_

But Izaya didn't have much time to think about it, as Kine tugged him deeper into the village. "You'll be staying with my wife and me. Come on, it's not too far." The further they went, the more curious stares they garnered. Some of the villagers looked curious, sneaking glances at the sudden new face that had graced their village. Others didn't bother to mask their distaste, glowering at Izaya with mistrust in their eyes.

Kine eventually stopped in front of an unremarkable hut, pushing ahead of Izaya to duck inside. "Jang-mi!" he called as he entered, followed by a muffled response that Izaya couldn't hear. Kine beckoned him to follow, pulling him into the warmth of the cozy hut.

"Kine!" a tiny woman who looked anything butWater Tribe cooed, emerging from a dugout in the corner that likely led to a lower level. She planted a kiss on her husband's cheek, "How was everything?"

"Routine, as usual," Kine chuckled, pressing a fond kiss to her forehead. "Sold everything without a hitch. I had enough extra to buy some dried kelp. I also found this kid." She gave him a confused look, and Kine pointed back to Izaya, still shivering at the entrance.

The woman blinked and peered over Kine's shoulder, her eyes going wide when she caught sight of him. "Kine!" She slapped his shoulder. "You should have told me that first!" 

"He'll be staying with us for the time being." Jang-mi gave Kine an incredulous look, and for a second, Izaya thought she would protest Izaya's staying there. 

But instead, she clicked her tongue disapprovingly in Kine's direction, "He's more important that your dried kelp!" Before Izaya knew it, she was pressing her palm gently against his cheek. "You're freezing. Let me get you a blanket." She disappeared to the lower level, and Kine pushed him to follow her.

After much fussing, Izaya found himself coaxed under a mountain of lush furs in the surprisingly spacious lower level of the hut. Jang-mi had given him some of Kine's old clothes to wear to replace the too-thin Earth Kingdom garments he'd been forced to keep when he couldn't afford or find anything warmer. Both sweater and pants Jang-mi had given him were too large on Izaya's willowy frame, but in the end, she looked incredibly pleased with her work.

A steaming bowl of stew was warming his hands, the steam curling heat around his still-red cheeks. Kine and Jang-mi sat across from him, Jang-mi occasionally shooting Izaya worried looks while Kine contentedly ate his dinner.

"It's Izaya, right?" Jang-mi asked awkwardly, not sounding all that sure of herself. "That, uh, sounds like a Fire Nation name! It's been a while since I've heard another Fire Nation name... It's been even longer since I've been back."

"Hah, it's funny seeing as I'm not Fire Nation. I don't even have family there, believe it or not," Izaya said smoothly, taking pity on the woman's sorry attempt at conversation. She flushed and laughed lightly at her mistake, but the sound soon became awkward in the space between them.

It was Kine who broke the silence next. "So," he said between a mouthful of stew. "You were looking for Auk. Why?"

"That's quite the loaded question. Where should I even start?" Kine raised an eyebrow at him as if telling him to get on with it. "I've heard a lot of stories about this village, tales of extremely powerful benders who could tame the seas if they wanted to, all leading to here. Of course, I thought it was nonsense, something like an urban legend if you will. But then I heard the craziest thing." Kine's face was blank as slate, not reacting at all. "I heard that you're all bloodbenders."

"And you believe that?"

"Hm, not really at first, but now, I'm not so sure. I mean, a village in the middle of an ice desert, capable of trapping animals swimming beneath metres of ice? Catching enough to afford wood and books? All without a single boat or net in sight? By all accounts, the evidence points to something strange going on here. So tell me, _are_ there bloodbenders here?"

The hut was silent for a moment. Izaya thought Kine would deny it immediately, thought that he would throw Izaya out of his home to freeze to death. But then Kine snorted a laugh and spooned another bite into his mouth. "Kine," Jang-mi scolded, sounding exasperated.

"What? He already knows, there's no use trying to hide it now. Even if I denied it, he's staying with us. He's bound to find out."

"That's beside the point! You know the others won't be happy that you're spilling village secrets!"

"It's hardly a secret. Practically everyone knows. It's just that no one's bull-headed enough to come looking for us."

"So it's true?" Izaya asked. "You're really bloodbenders?" Izaya could only stare in wide-eyed awe, suddenly feeling like a child again, fascinated by every new thing he came across. "Teach me," he begged, leaning forward, his eyes bright with excitement he hadn't felt in years. "Please!"

Kine hummed thoughtfully, setting down his bowl to rub his chin thoughtfully.

Jang-mi, on the other hand, already had an apologetic look in her eyes. "Oh, Izaya, I'm really sorry, but the people around here... If you aren't born here, you're not one of them. It took them a long time to accept me as Kine's wife, and I still get odd stares from time to time. Bloodbending is a huge part of the culture here. They don't teach who they see as... outsiders," Jang-mi said gently. 

"Why?" Kine asked, his expression turned serious. "Why do you want to learn so badly?" 

Izaya felt taken aback by the sudden question. It was only natural that Kine would ask. Judging by the art's dark past, Kine probably wouldn't teach someone if they were only going to use it for immoral purposes. He had expected to be thoroughly questioned, but, at the same time, Izaya didn't have a straight answer.

For him, these past few weeks of listening to countless stories and chasing trails felt as if he'd been transported back in time to his sad excuse of a childhood. Back when learning as much as he could was his favourite and only pastime. He felt like he was reliving only the best parts of his youth. And in turn, Izaya felt the impulse to act like the child he wasn't allowed to be like desire made tangible in his chest. 

...But at the same time, Izaya was _painfully aware_ of how pathetic that sounded, and that there was no way, under _any_ circumstances, that he'd be able to say all that. How could he tell Kine that the only reason why he wanted to learn was to revisit the time in his life when things were just a little easier?

So instead, he said, "What, is invigorating a young mind with knowledge not a good enough reason?" Kine gave him a disbelieving look. "You wanted a reason, that's your reason. Pure, child-like curiosity. Take it as you will."

"People don't just learn these things for fun or just for the sake of knowing," Kine said sternly. "It can be very dangerous in the hands of the wrong people. Are you honestly telling me that you just want to learn bloodbending _for fun_?" 

Izaya felt his whole body flush with annoyance. "Are these the kinds of hard-hitting questions that you ask every kid in the village, or am I just special? I'm sure if you asked them, their answer would be the exact same, so why refuse me over them?"

Kine set his bowl down with a loud _tink_. "Bloodbending is not a hobby you learn to pass the time. If that's all it is to you, then I doubt you have the resolve to do it anyway."

"Resolve?" Izaya repeated incredulously. This man was really starting to test his nerves. "That's why you won't teach me?"

"That, and I don't want to teach a dangerous art to a dangerous person. I'm sure you know that as well as I do."

"You've said it yourself, I'm not a dangerous person, or are you beginning to second-guess yourself? Am I, a _child_ , that scary to you?" Izaya simpered. The two glowered at each other for a while. The seemingly kind man Izaya had first met was gone, replaced by a superior officer with a stick lodged up his ass. "If resolve is what you're caught up on, I'm a stronger bender than I look. I can handle whatever you throw at me. If that's not enough, you can just let me leave."

Izaya met Kine's challenging gaze without flinching. But then, Kine huffed softly. He ducked his head, and soon, the man was laughing loudly, leaving Izaya to blink stupidly at the sudden change in behaviour.

"You've got a lot of spirit in you, huh, kid? And here I was thinking you were some poor little orphan child." He chuckled again, picking up his bowl. Jang-mi beside him, who hadn't said a word, rolled her eyes, looking fondly resigned. "I'll teach you," Kine said, once again taking Izaya aback. _'He was testing me.'_ He held out his hand for Izaya to shake as if it was a business deal. "But you'd better not prove yourself wrong."

* * *

A week later, Kine started teaching Izaya how to bloodbend. Most people were vocally opposed to Kine's decision to train Izaya, much like Kine was in the beginning. Even when Kine reassured them that everything was fine, Izaya still found himself subject to cruel words and bitter looks. But growing up in the navy gave Izaya thick skin, and he managed to ignore most of it.

Kine had brought him outside the village walls, just a little ways away from where other kids were learning. They started with a basic assessment of Izaya's skills, making him stream the water, create tides, and manipulate a globe of water. It was only once Kine was satisfied with Izaya's bending skills that they started training.

"Now, Orihara, you have to remember that bloodbending is a very sacred art." Kine fixed Izaya with a stern glare. "It is the imposing of your will unto another living creature against theirs. Because of this, we never, _never_ , use bloodbending on fellow humans, do you understand? The only exception is if your life is in danger, and even then, you must tread carefully. You must promise me that you'll never use bloodbending on another person." Kine's words echoed his warning from the week earlier, and Izaya readily agreed. After all, what was the fun in forcing someone to do your bidding when you could just as easily lay the traps and watch people fall right into them?

"Most kids start learning when they're twelve, so you've got a little catching up to do," Kine grunted, producing a waterskin from the inside of his jacket. "But, if your fundamentals are anything to go off of, you'll pick this up in no time. This-" he pointed to the waterskin "-is the first step in your training. I hope you're not squeamish." He uncorked the skin, bending out a bright red liquid. "Any guesses?"

Izaya wrinkled his nose against the smell. "Blood." He'd seen his fair share of it in his short life, but it didn't make it any less disgusting. 

"Fresh blood from a seal we caught this morning," Kine confirmed. "All young waterbenders start in the summer by learning to bend blood outside of an animal."

"Why not start during winter?" It seemed counterproductive to learn such a physically-demanding bending art when the moon was nowhere to be seen in the sky.

"Because if you can do these skills during the summer, moving on to animals should be a breeze. Once you're experienced enough, you'll be able to subdue a full-grown animal during the day." Kine set down the waterskin and began streaming the blood as if it were water. "Once you get the hang of basic exercises like this, the blood is put into a container like this." He pulled out what looked like a long mink-snake skin that had been closed off at both ends. It was hollow and deflated like the world's most disgusting sausage casing. "Layers of skins and furs are slowly added to the outside to mimic an animal. It's quite different from the real thing, but it gives you a feel for it. Ready to give it a shot?"

Izaya grimaced then nodded, swallowing down disgust as he stared at the deep scarlet liquid.

He set the waterskin on the ground, first getting a feel for its contents. It felt like water, but there was something about it that made it feel...fuzzy? There was no other way to describe it. It was in the shape of something familiar. Yet the edges were so blurred into obscurity that Izaya could hardly tell what it was. He could almost feel it, could just barely parse out the shape of it, but every time he got close, the clarity he once had vanished.

Slowly, he began to feel the push and pull of it. It was subtle, barely detectable, but eventually, Izaya was able to shakily lift some of it into the air before dropping it, panting with effort.

"Very good," Kine nodded approvingly, a glimmer of surprise evident in his eyes. "Now, do it again."

* * *

[so you're in the south pole?]

[that's pretty cool]

[get it?]

[cuz it's cold]

{Very funny, Shinra. I've never heard that one before. Tell me, what spurred you to finally text me after half a year?}

[well, i can't collect favours from a corpse, can i?]

[unless i use you as a cadaver :D]

Izaya rolled his eyes and flipped his phone shut. When he'd first got here, Izaya thought that the village having cell service was incredible. Now, not so much. 

Much had changed in the last six months Izaya had lived in Auk. For one, the locals weren't as outright unfriendly as they were when he first came. The second he started showing potential as a bloodbender, their hackles lowered and, for the most part, he became welcomed. Of course, his well-trained ability to charm people certainly helped, even though their thick accents were tough to decipher.

His bloodbending training with Kine was going along fabulously. Izaya had always been a strong bender thanks to his military background, but it seemed that he had a natural affinity for the art. Kine even said that he was about on par with other kids of the same age, and he'd been training for over a year less than them! He had long since moved on from just bending free-flowing blood, and was now capable of bending an "animal" with several layers of imitation fur and fat.

Living with Kine and Jang-mi had been a significant change, too. Before, the closest thing he had to parental figures were navy superiors, two women that didn't want him in their lives, a dead man, and a man he only saw four times a year. It was so different from what Izaya was used to, that sometimes he laid awake at night, wondering if he was stuck in a dream that was too good to be true. They enrolled him in the village school, pampered him as much as Izaya would allow, _cared_ for him. It was the family that Izaya had always dreamed of. Even if things in Auk got dull from time to time, Izaya could admit that he was happy here. It felt like his second shot at having a normal childhood, and Izaya wasn't putting any of it to waste.

Rolling off his bed of furs, Izaya stepped up to the first floor of the hut, were Jang-mi was making dinner.

"Oh, Izaya. Just in time. Grab a bowl and sit down. I've made something special tonight!"

"It smells lovely, Jang-mi shi." Izaya said as she scooped a large serving of whatever she had made into his bowl.

"It's bulgogi with rice. Kine's not too fond of it, but he's not here to complain. How was training without him today?" Kine had left the other day to go on a hunting trip and wasn't due back for another week. So, to keep Izaya busy, Kine had him join a group lesson with some other kids.

"It was nothing like the hell Kine usually puts me through." Training that day had them pair up in groups and try to bend an "animal" toward them and out of their partner's control. "He never goes that easy on me. Not that I'm complaining about a lighter training session, of course."

"Kine _can_ be a bit of a hardass, huh?" Jang-mi giggled. "But you know, he's very proud of how far you've come in such a short period. It usually takes years to master bloodbending, and he's told me that you're already half-way there." Izaya flushed at the compliment, his ears heating up from her praise. "Don't tell him I told you, but once we get to midnight day, Kine's going to take you out on your first hunting trip!" 

His eyes went wide. "Really?" he asked, excitement tingling up his spine. That was just over a month away.

Jang-mi nodded. "But you have to keep it a secret." She pressed her forefinger to her lips. "He wants to be the one to surprise you." She gave him a winning smile that made Izaya feel giddy with eagre excitement. "Now, eat! I still need to fatten you up for winter!"

* * *

Izaya's first hunting trip was just barely a success. As Kine said at the beginning of his training, nothing felt the same as bloodbending an animal. Even with the help of the moon, after the week-long trip, Izaya only had a skinny leopard-mink to show for it.

It was a disappointing ride back, especially considering that some of the older men and women had managed to take down a full-grown polar bear-dog. His measly leopard-mink felt like a failure, a physical weight against his shoulders. Izaya didn't tolerate failure, not in Apitu, not in Chengzhen, and definitely not here.

"Cheer up, Orihara," Kine said, patting Izaya on the shoulder when he saw his downcast expression. "No one has a good first hunting trip. Be grateful that you made it out with something at all."

"I'm...aware," Izaya said stiffly. "But it's disappointing," Izaya begrudgingly admitted. Revealing such weakness made his gut twist with unease, but he trusted Kine not to use it against him.

"You might think so, but I don't. You've gone through less than a year of training, and this is your first-ever hunting trip. By all means, you should be a terrible bloodbender. But you aren't, and you caught something, and that's something to be proud of. So don't be too critical of yourself. You'll see. A few years from now, I guarantee, you'll be one of the best bloodbender's Auk's ever seen."

* * *

Kine was right (though it was more like one year than a few). It was already May, just over a year and a half after his first hunting trip, and two years after he'd first come to Auk. Throughout that time, Izaya had been training intensely under Kine's strict eye, reminding him of the militaristic lifestyle he had lived for so long. He had gone from only being able to catch measly prey to being able to subdue a full-grown caribou-yak with the help of a few others. His swift grasp of the art made him popular with even the most hostile villagers like Yutu, who had grown to acknowledge and respect Izaya, both as a bender and a person.

Right now, Izaya was in the middle of what Kine called his "final test" as a bloodbender. He was sitting in front of a massive hole where the ice was thinner, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. As Kine instructed him, he was to bloodbend tonight's dinner to the surface. If he was successful, the village would feast on his catch, and he would be a fully realized bloodbender.

Slowly but surely, Izaya began to pick up the sensations of a tiger-seal swimming in the murky depths. Taking a deep, Izaya honed in on its energy, and with a quick exhale, he gained control of its movements. He could feel it struggle, but Izaya's hold held strong, his fingers locking rigidly in place. With a few precise movements of his fingers, he gradually brought it to the surface. The second Izaya saw its shadow, he lifted his arms and bent it out of the water. The tiger-seal cried out loudly, but it was cut off but a swift ice-bullet through the head, ending its life quickly and humanely. Panting with effort, Izaya sat the animal down on a clean patch of snow and bowed his head in thanks. It was still a juvenile, but it was fat with spring fish and would be more than enough to feed the village. He gave the traditional thanks for the animal's life, "Nakurmiik," then fell backwards, exhausted.

When he blinked open his eyes, Kine was hovering above him. "You alright, Orihara?"

"Perfectly peachy," Izaya groaned. Kine helped him sit up slowly, and waited with him until the dark spots in Izaya's vision disappeared. "So oh great teacher of mine, did I pass?" Izaya asked with a self-confident smirk.

"Why don't you tell me?" Kine snorted when Izaya's grin grew wider. "Everyone would be a fool not to recognize you as a strong bloodbender. Let's get this back home so we can skin it. I'm sure there'll be a feast tonight."

* * *

"We give our thanks to the mighty tiger-seal that fills our bellies tonight, and to young Orihara who caught it, once an outsider, now one of us!" The villagers cheered warmly at the elder's words, raising their bowls in Izaya's direction. "We celebrate his proficiency of our ancient art, as well as his coming of age!" He bowed to the elders as another round of cheers rang through the longhouse. "Now, let us feast!"

The night came alive with dancing and music. A massive metal wok was placed over the blazing hearth in the middle of the room, where a pot delicious-smelling stew was bubbling away. Several people were dancing to an upbeat tune, with traditional headpieces obscuring their faces and the fire casting long shadows against the walls. Children were seated around the elders, listening intently to the stories they told. Kine and Jang-mi were nowhere to be found, saying that they had to go get something first. Meaning that they had left Izaya to fend for himself. 

"I can't believe you managed to do it in just two years!" one man from the small crowd that Izaya had gathered barked. "You're quite the anomaly, kid."

"I've been told," he purred smoothly. "I swear, though, Kine's training nearly killed me a handful of times." That sparked another round of laughter from the people around him.

"Izaya." He turned and looked up to the two girls staring expectantly at him. "Would you like to come dance with us?" the first one asked, her cerulean eyes gleaming. Her friend had the faintest rosy blush across her cheeks, and she turned a brilliant scarlet when Izaya's eyes met hers.

"I wish I could, but I'm still a little sore from today," Izaya said apologetically, offering them both a gentle smile. "But don't let that stop you. I'm sure you're both wonderful dancers." He leaned his chin on his palm, glancing up at them from behind dark lashes. "I'd love to watch you instead."

Both girls went tomato-red. "S-Sure," the first one stuttered, tugging at a loose strand of dark hair. "See you, Izaya." He waved as they quickly shuffled away.

"Look at you, big boy," another man next to Izaya teased. "Maybe Kine should teach you how to make a betrothal necklace next." 

_"As if,"_ Izaya thought while laughing along with the others. _"Those girls might follow me around like lost little polar-puppies, but I don't want to_ marry _them! I'm not interested!"_ As a matter of fact, Izaya wasn't interested in _any_ of the girls in the village, and he suspected that he never would be.

The curtains leading to the inside of the longhouse fluttered open, letting in the bright shine of midnight sun. Kine's head poked through the flap, and when their eyes made contact, he beckoned Izaya outside.

"Apologies, gentlemen, but my keeper is calling." Izaya stood as gracefully as he could on legs that felt like jelly and slowly made his way out of the longhouse. Kine and Jang-mi were waiting for him, Jang-mi holding something behind her back.

"Orihara." Without warning, Kine pulled him into a short hug. "Happy birthday." Kine patted his back and rested his hand on his shoulder. 

Jang-mi came next, throwing one arm around Izaya's neck, making him stumble on uncertain legs. "I'm so proud of you," she said, squeezing him tight and rocking him back and forth. She released him and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. "Happy birthday, Izaya." He felt his cheeks flush at her soft touch, warmth blooming in his chest. "We have something special for you!"

"We thought you'd like something a little nicer than my old coat."

Izaya's breath stuttered in his chest when Jang-mi produced a folded black coat from behind her back. He smoothed his hand over the sleek dark leather and marvelled at the feathery-white fur that trimmed the edges. Thick seal fur covered the inside, and when Izaya looked carefully at the sleeves, he could see the delicate details of embroidery scrawled across the cuffs. "This is... for me?" he breathed, half-convinced that they would yank it out of his hands the second he grabbed it.

"Who else would we make it for," Jang-mi laughed. "Here, put it on." She helped him shrug out of the old coat he was wearing and zippered it up. She flipped up the hood and stood back. "It's a bit too big, huh?" she fretted, but Izaya could hardly care. To him, it was perfect.

"Eh, he'll grow into it--" Before Kine could finish, Izaya wrapped his arms around both their shoulders. "Orihara?!" Izaya's only response was to hold them tighter, not speaking out of fear that he would choke on the lump of emotion lodged in his throat. Jang-mi chuckled softly against his ear and slid an arm around his waist.

Izaya always knew he was lucky to have them in his life, but he felt it now more than anything.

* * *

Izaya boredly watched as Kine haggled with the man in the fur shop, his arms crossed as he leaned against an adjacent wall. He rolled his eyes while the two men continued to argue and argue and _argue_. He didn't understand why Kine decided to drag him along on this trip if he wasn't even going to be the one bargaining.

"I'm going to wait outside," he finally said, ducking out of the tent when the man behind the counter stuck up his nose like a petulant child. 

Taking advantage of his newfound free time, Izaya wandered the unfamiliar streets of the town just North of Auk. It was his first time out of the village since he'd first arrived, and he appreciated the change of pace. 

As he skipped down the snowy road, Izaya noticed a small crowd had gathered in the town's centre. Not enough people to draw too much attention, but enough to excite Izaya's interest. Standing on the tips of his toes, he just managed to see a large wooden bulletin board, but whatever was on it was blocked by a head of dark hair. _"Everyone here's too tall. Damn Water Tribe genes..."_

"Izaya?" an unfamiliar yet familiar voice called. It wasn't Kine, Izaya knew that for sure, but he swore, he knew this voice. "Izaya, is that you?" Izaya instinctively turned in the voice's direction, his eyes widening when he saw Kyoda, one of the men he knew from Apitu, staring back at him. "Oh my god, it _is_ you!" Kyoda beamed, rushing closer. "I thought I'd never see you again! And you've gotten so much taller!" Izaya clicked his tongue under his breath. Even if he _had_ gotten taller, he only just reached Kyoda's chin.

"Kyoda. I must say, it's been a while." He grasped Kyoda's forearm in a firm shake, and Kyoda did the same. "I hope no one missed me too much while I was gone?"

Kyoda barked a laugh. "As if anyone would miss a brat like you. I'm glad you haven't changed, Izaya. Still sharp, as always. And I'm glad you're safe. Do you live here?"

Izaya shook his head. "Just here for business. Why are you here? Did life in Apitu get too brutal for you to stomach?" Izaya teased with a quirk of his head.

"Ah, I've gotten too old for that place. If I stayed any longer, some part of me would have given out. I've been reassigned to basic policing work. There are reports here of illegal beluga-shark finning in the area, so me and a few others were sent to check it out." He opened his mouth to continue, but out of the corner of Izaya's eye, he saw Kine re-emerge from the fur hut with a wad of bills in his hands.

"Orihara!" Kine grabbed Izaya by the shoulders, pushing Izaya forward into a bow, which he quickly copied. "Please excuse him. Whatever he did, I'm sure he meant no harm." Izaya scowled resentfully at Kine's words. _'As I'd ever get in trouble,'_ he sniffed in his head.

"Is this... your dad?" Kyoda asked with a surprised look on his face. "Is this why you left?"

"I prefer the term keeper. And I, unfortunately, can't go into those details right now; classified information and whatnot." He waved his hand flippantly then turned to Kine. "If you're done, shall we go find the others?" He didn't wait for Kine's response, instead turning to walk away. "It was nice to see you again, Kyoda. Have fun with your beluga-shark finning!"

"Wait, Izaya!" Kyoda reached out his hand to stop Izaya, "You know I'll have to take you back with me, right?" That stopped Izaya in his tracks. "You're a missing soldier, and charges are waiting for you back at the Capital. Going AWOL for four years...there are major repercussions for that. I can't just let you go."

"Yes, you can," Izaya snapped. "We can both pretend we never saw each other, simple as that. You can go on with your life, and I can go on with mine."

"You know I can't do that. I'll have to report you, Izaya. I might not be able to force you back, but they'll send someone who can."

_'He's threatening me,'_ Izaya's mind growled. But oddly enough, he couldn't bring himself to feel anger. Instead, he felt apathetic, as if Kyoda's words had placed a trance over him. It was only Kine's touch to his shoulder that snapped him out of it.

"I'm really sorry, but we really do need to get going. There's a storm on the horizon, and we need to get to the village before it hits." With a steady hand, Kine steered him away from the crowd and Kyoda.

"My next report's not due for another four days!" Kyoda called after them. "I'll be waiting in town if you decide to come willingly!"

* * *

"I see..." Kine muttered grimly, as he processed Izaya's reluctant account of his childhood. "I suspected that you were in the navy once, but I never imagined like this." Izaya looked up, surprised. "I was in the navy for six years, kid. I can recognize their jacket when I see one. Plus, there were rumours back then of a program that trained kids. I thought it was all nonsense, but..." Kine's words trailed off, his frown deepening.

Jang-mi's eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Thank you for telling us, Izaya," she whispered, sniffing and drying her eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't be crying. I just wish that you'd never gone through that. It's terrible."

"It's fine, really," Izaya said, his tone flat and unfeeling. "It could have been worse."

"Well, you shouldn't have gone through it regardless!" Jang-mi shouted, her voice cracking in the middle of her words. "You should have been with a family that loves you, not training to be a... a _child soldier_!"

Izaya's eyes softened when Jang-mi sniffled loudly again. _"I wish I could have been with you two..."_

"What do you plan to do now?" Kine grunted, his dark eyes the only indication of how troubled he felt. "Are you going to leave?"

"Of course he's not!" Jang-mi said fiercely. "He's staying right here where we can protect him! I won't let him go back to the navy! He doesn't belong there!"

"Desertion and AWOL charges are severe," Kine pointed out gently. "But, if he turns himself in now, his punishment may be more lenient."

"He is a _child_!"

"But he's also a soldier. He's an adult in that sense."

"No!" Jang-mi suddenly stood, her knuckles crackling with electricity as her anger took on a physical form. "It would be cruel of us to let him go back!"

"Jang-mi shi." Izaya grabbed her hand, ignoring the tingling shock that raced up his arm. "It's alright," he murmured softly, guiding her back to a sitting position. "When I first left the navy, I was...looking for something, something I didn't find for a long time. And when the pain of not having it became too much, I ran away. But with you two, I found it." He smiled softly, squeezing Jang-mi's hand. "You two are the storybook family I've been looking for, and now that I've found you, I don't need to run away anymore." When he looked back up, Jang-mi looked like she was once again on the brink of tears, and the way the shadows played on Kine's grim face made him look years older.

"You're right. You have us now. You don't have to go back. Stay _here_ ," Jang-mi pleaded.

But Izaya shook his head. "I thought about it a lot on our way back, and I'm done with running away. Besides, I have an in with the Chieftain, so I doubt my punishment will be too horrible."

"Is that really what you want?" Kine asked quietly. "You want to go back?" Izaya nodded, avoiding his gaze in fear that he would only see rejection in Kine's eyes. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Kine's hand came to rest on the top of his head. Kine sighed heavily, "We won't stop you. It's your decision to make. And if you decide to come back, we'll welcome you home with open arms. You will always have a place here with us."

Jang-mi shifted closer, holding Izaya's face as if memorizing the details of it. She looked like a mother who was losing her child. She pressed a kiss to the crown of Izaya's head and held him close to her chest as if this was the last time they would see each other. He closed his and leaned into his touch.

Even though he was leaving, he was glad that he'd met such kind people.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anik - Older sibling of the opposite sex in Inuktut  
> Angijuk - Older sibling of the same sex in Inuktut
> 
> Special thanks to my lovely beta @KariHigada :D

"Well, well, well." Izaya grimaced at the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. Less than three hours after he returned to the Capital and he already wanted to go back to Auk. _'Of all the people that I see first, it just had to be him…'_ He turned to see the Sergeant General approaching him, his hands clasped behind his back and the slightest sneer on his face. "There's a face I never thought I'd see again."

_'That makes two of us,'_ Izaya thought, but he knew better than to speak out of turn. "Sergeant Major," he gritted out, holding his tongue.

"Actually, it's _Commander_ Sergeant Major, now," the man smirked haughtily, puffing his chest to show off the new medal adorning his blazer. "A lot has changed while you were… _away_." Izaya clenched and unclenched his jaw to stop a scathing retort from spilling forth. The man turned on his heel and began walking down the hall toward an ornate wooden door. "Come along, Izaya. The Chieftain himself will be doling your punishment!" Izaya scowled at the man's sudden cheery tone but dutifully did as he was told.

The Sergeant pushed open the door to Shirou's office with ease, striding into the room as if he owned the place. Shirou was sitting at a dark mahogany desk, his hands clasped expectantly in front of him. He looked just as Izaya remembered him, though his hair was now streaked sparsely by silver, and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes had deepened somewhat. A manila folder was at his side -- Kyoda's report, Izaya suspected. Shirou's eyes brightened when he caught sight of Izaya, his posture straightening and his gaze warm with relief.

"Chieftain Shirou," the Sergeant called, bowing by the waist. "I have brought Izaya, as per your request."

Shirou nodded. "Thank you. You are dismissed. Please close the door on your way out." The Sergeant nodded and turned to take his leave, giving Izaya a snide side-eye as he left.

The second the looming doors latched closed, Izaya felt his shoulders relax, and he let out a sigh. _'Finally,'_

"Izaya." Shirou pushed out of his seat, grinning widely. He hesitated for a moment before offering Izaya his hand, which Izaya took into a firm grip. "Welcome back."

"Chieftain Shirou," Izaya lilted, a small smile of his own playing on his lips. "It's good to be back, I suppose."

Without warning, Shirou pulled him into a hug, holding Izaya close to his chest. "I thought I'd never see you again," Shirou whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Sighing, Izaya tentatively eased into Shirou's hold, closing his fists into the back of Shirou's jacket. "I'm so glad you're safe. When the report came that you disappeared after a storm, and no one could find you…" Shirou's grip went a little tighter. "Thank you for coming home safely."

* * *

Over the next half hour, the two of them slowly caught up with each other's lives. Shirou had all but interrogated Izaya about his journey to find his birth father, listening intently to Izaya's every word. Of course, Izaya made sure to leave out the less flattering details about his failed expedition. Shirou didn't need to know the intricacies of it, anyway.

Izaya left the part where he spent nearly two years in Chengzhen. Instead, he told Shirou that he'd simply wandered the Earth Kingdom in search of a place to call home before coming back to the South.

"Why not come back to the Capital?" Shirou asked, looking saddened that coming back to what he saw as home wasn't Izaya's first decision.

Izaya shrugged. "I wasn't ready, I suppose. A big part of me just wanted to explore the world outside of Apitu. And the other part... it just wanted a place where I wouldn't be pushed away again." Miraculously, the words came out smooth and even, the candid words baring none of the embarrassment Izaya felt inside.

Shirou nodded after a while, offering Izaya a smile that was weighted with sadness. "I'm sorry we couldn't be that place," Shirou murmured, his voice filled with genuine pain. "But I'm glad you found it in the end." He tapped the manila folder with his index finger. "The report didn't go into too much detail, but I was made aware that a family from a small village took you in?" Shirou's eyes were searching, clearly wanting Izaya to go into more detail about it.

"They're both very kind-hearted people," Izaya murmured, feeling his chest ache. He wanted to say more, but Izaya felt that if he tried, he would choke on his own words.

"...Do you want to go back?" Shirou asked quietly, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his desk. "If you're happy with the family that took you in, it would be cruel if I tried to keep you away from them."

Izaya thought about it for a few seconds before sighing. "Yes and no," he answered honestly. "The village I was staying at has become very dear to me, but Auk is small, and contact outside the village is limited. Things get boring there very quickly, and I don't mix well with boredom. Besides, I've been missing the air of this place. Small towns have their appeal, but I think I'll always be more content when surrounded by the populace of a large city."

Shirou hardly had anything to say in comparison to Izaya. His position as a political figurehead meant that most of his life was already in the public eye. He did, however, touch on the birth of his daughters, Izaya's half-sisters. Izaya vaguely remembered Kyouko being heavily pregnant when they first met, as well as skimming the headline of an article, detailing their birth. But other than that, Izaya knew nothing about them. Shirou filled in most of the gaps for him, speaking fondly of his two daughters.

"Do they know about me?" Izaya asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Those girls may be his half-siblings, but to him, all they shared was blood.

Shirou shook his head. "Kyouko and I decided that we wouldn't tell them unless you decided to come back and were comfortable with it. We didn't want to burden you with the title of older brother if you didn't want it, and we didn't want to confuse the girls by telling them they had an older brother whom they couldn't meet. That wouldn't be fair to the three of you."

"Are you going to tell them now that I'm back?"

"Actually, that relates to a proposal I'd like to make. Consider it your punishment for leaving your post." Shirou reached into one of the many drawers of his desk and pulled out several sheets of paper. "As I've mentioned, the girls are four, and they're exploring more and more of the world each day. Usually, they're watched by their nannies or guards or Kyouko and I, if we have the time. But I've begun to wonder if it would be beneficial to their development if they branched out, so to speak. Develop a relationship with someone a little closer to their age while still being kept safe. It's an unpaid position, seeing as this is still a punishment, but I'm sure after a few years, we can bring you up to a guard's starting salary."

Izaya slid the papers closer. "You're assigning me to be their older brother?"

"If you'd like to summarize it that way, then yes. But it's your choice whether you want that title or not."

"What does Kyouko have to say about it?"

"She thinks it's a good idea. We both hope that you'll become a part of the girls' lives." 

"And if I refuse? Where would I go then?"

"You would be assigned as a part of the palace guard. Or, based on an assessment of your skills, you'll be sent into the field, be that peacekeeping or relief work." Shirou tapped the edge of the first page, sliding an ivory-white fountain pen toward Izaya. "I will respect whatever decision that you make, but I hope you'll at least consider this."

Izaya nearly burst out laughing, flipping through the pages of the contract with barely-concealed mirth tugging at his lips. _'Shirou, you've grown so senile,'_ Izaya simpered in his mind as he skimmed over the details. _'You must be stupid if you think I'm going to become the glorified babysitter of your brats!'_

* * *

Evidently, however, Shirou's skill with persuasion was a force to be reckoned with, and it was enough to make Izaya, as stubborn as he was, agree to meet with the girls. Plus, the added incentive of a private wing in the Palace all to himself and a free pass into the city _did_ make the idea a hell of a lot more appealing.

So, there he was, standing next to Shirou in the scratchy trainee uniform he hadn't worn since he was ten, waiting for the girls to come home.

_"The girls will be coming home from preschool at three. You're just meeting them today, and I'm sure you'll get to know them in due time."_ Shirou had explained when Izaya tentatively accepted his offer. _"Kyouko will be with them, but you don't have to speak with her if you so choose."_

Izaya readjusted the high-collar of his jacket when he heard the echoed sounds of a door opening, then closing, followed by footsteps and bright, unintelligible chatter. 

Three figures rounded the corner, only one of which Izaya recognized. Kyouko was leading her daughters over, holding their hands as she listened to them babble about their day. Or at least one of them -- the girl on the left seemed content to let her sister do all the talking. Kyouko's expression was soft and affectionate as she looked down at the two, a stark contrast to the horrified look she had given Izaya when they first met.

The second their gazes met, Kyouko's eyes went wide with recognition, then... creased back into fondness before Izaya could recognize the change. Surprise bloomed in his chest. Kyouko never made that expression to him before.

Of course, the only person the girls noticed was their father, not the stranger standing next to him. Both of their eyes lit up, and the chatty one grabbed her sister's hand to race down the hall and into Shirou's arms.

"Papa!" the chatty one cheered, wrapping her arms around Shirou's neck while the quiet one clung contentedly to Shirou's arm. Watching the disgustingly domestic scene before him made irritation prickle down Izaya's spine, settling in the pit of his stomach as resentment. They looked like the dictionary definition of a nuclear family, the family that Kyouko had deemed too perfect to fit him. 

"Guess what, guess what! When me and Kuru-angijuk were coming home, guess what we saw!"

"Guess," the quiet one finally said, her big blue eyes gleaming excitedly.

Shirou laughed heartily, "What did you see?"

"There was a _giant_ snow-rat!" The chatty one flung her arms into the air for emphasis.

"Huge." The quiet one lifted her hands up as if to show the 'massive' size of the snow-rat.

"Oh, goodness! Where did you manage to see that?"

"On the steps."

"Yeah! Kuru-angijuk saw it first, let's go back to see if it's still there!" Both girls began to tug on Shirou's sleeve, but he gently stopped them.

"Maybe later, but we have someone here to see you. Remember what we talked about earlier?" The chatty one shook her head unabashedly, and the quiet one tilted her head to stare at Izaya curiously. "This-" Shirou gestured to Izaya "-is Izaya Orihara. He's going to be your new guard."

The chatty one scrunched up her nose and scrutinized Izaya suspiciously. Izaya stared right back. "What about Yuka?"

"Yuka has other responsibilities to take care of," Kyouko said, kneeling next to the girls. "Why don't you say hello to Izaya? He's been waiting very patiently to meet you."

The chatty one eagerly made her way toward Izaya, the snow-rat forgotten for the time being. The quiet one simply continued to stare, allowing her sister to pass judgment for both of them. 

Izaya kept his face schooled into careful neutrality when the chatty one stopped in front of him, staring at him with huge doe-eyes. He had to admit, he didn't feel totally comfortable being so close to his half-siblings. Even if they didn't know it, and likely never would, the proximity made Izaya feel tense and awkward.

"Are you like Yuka?" the girl blurted before Izaya could dwell on those feelings for too long. "Cuz I don't like Yuka. Look!" She leaned up on her tiptoes to show Izaya the back of her wrist. "One time, when Yuka wasn't looking, I fell and got a scrape!"

"It sounds like you both weren't paying attention," he mused, some of the frigidness inside him melting when she pouted at him. "I'll keep you from getting hurt, but I'm not going to save you from your own stupidity." Izaya internally cursed himself when Mairu's eyes went wide. He had forgotten just how scathing his tone could get, something he'd picked up during his time in Chengzhen, where words were your first weapon. 

She stared at him for a long second, and Izaya was worried she was going to burst into tears. But then, her eyes went bright with excitement, her face lighting up. She grabbed Izaya's hand and yanked him down with more force than a four-year-old should have.

"I like you way more than Yuka. Yuka is no fun," she giggled. The quiet one, who had somehow managed to silently slip from her father's side to Izaya's, carefully took hold of Izaya's sleeve.

"Better," she agreed in monotone, to which the chatty one nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! You can play with us! Yuka never plays with us!" Izaya felt a twitch of irritation at that. Playing with them wasn't in his contract. But the looks of eagerness on their faces made Izaya soften despite himself. "I'm Mairu, and that's Kururi-angijuk. Nice to meet you, Iza-anik!"

Izaya blinked in surprise at the title. He glanced suspiciously up at Shirou and Kyouko, wondering if this was their plan all along. To force him into their little family as the twins' brother, but not their son. But their expressions were relaxed and content, betraying no ulterior motive.

"Iza-anik, park," Kururi said, her words soft but her eyes demanding.

"Yeah! Can we, please?" Mairu jumped excitedly. "I want you to push me on the swings."

"You guys can go play later." Shirou made his way over and scooped Mairu into his arms, his eyes glittering with mirth. "Izaya still needs to settle in. And you two must be hungry; let's go get some snacks." 

"Iza-anik, come too?" Kururi asked, grabbing Izaya's wrist and looking up at him pleadingly.

"Um... Not today." Izaya awkwardly pulled Kururi's hold off of him, ignoring the nagging guilt in his gut when both Mairu and Kururi's expressions fell. "We can play tomorrow, alright?" It wasn't the most eloquent response, but Izaya didn't know what to do! He didn't know how to interact with kids!

"That's right," Shirou said, reaching down with his free hand to ruffle Kururi's hair. "You guys have tons of time to play later." With that, he led Mairu and Kururi down the hall, leaving Izaya alone with Kyouko for the first time. Shirou gave Izaya a reassuring look as he left, but it only made Izaya feel more on edge.

"Izaya," she murmured softly from behind him. He could hear the click of her footsteps coming closer, and he felt himself tense up with each one. He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath, and when he opened them again, Kyouko was in front of him. He bristled when he realized her eyes were curious, wandering over his features. _'All she sees is Renjaku,'_ he thought bitterly. She reached out her hand as if she was about to touch him, but stopped in midair, likely thinking better of it. "You've grown into such a fine young man," she said instead, her voice soft and without a trace of animosity.

"Thank you, Lady Kyouko. Four years does a lot to a person," Izaya responded stiffly, digging crescents into his palms.

She took a deep breath, then sighed, clenching and unclenching her hands. Her eyes were shifty, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn't quite get out the words. "...Why don't I show you to your wing?" Kyouko said after a while, her words sounding awkward in the tense air.

She led Izaya through the maze of hallways and corridors of the Southern Palace, passing by a few doors that Izaya vaguely recognized from the last time he was there. All the while, the silence between them grew heavier and heavier, a smog that thickened the air until it was painful to breathe. Kyouko's brisk pace only came to a stop when they made it to the double doors of Izaya's new home. 

She cleared her throat, "Well, here we are. It's all yours. Use whatever you'd like, and if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." She turned to face Izaya, her face still tense, but her eyes shining with sincerity. "I know now may not be the best time to say it, but I'm so glad to see that you're doing well. I know our first meeting wasn't... ideal, but I want you to know that I _do_ care about you, and I'm happy to see you back home." She hesitated for a second before ghosting her hand over Izaya's shoulder. "I'm sorry that I treated you with such cruelty." Her hand squeezed lightly, then she let go. "I hope you're comfortable here. I'll see you later." And with that, she left, turning the corner before Izaya could even get a word in.

All this time, he thought that his reunion with Kyouko would be filled with deeply-buried frustration and the resurfacing of Izaya's bitter grudge toward her. But instead, Izaya's insides churned with uncertainty.

For the first time ever, Izaya didn't know how to feel about Kyouko.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Izaya quickly settled into a routine in the Palace. It had been a bit of a difficult transition, going from such a humble village to the veritable lap of luxury that was the Southern Palace. He still wasn't quite used to having so much space for himself with everything he needed right at his fingertips, but he wasn't complaining. The only thing Izaya disliked about the Palace was how cold it always was. It made sense, seeing as the Palace was constructed out of ice, but he wished he didn't have to wear his jacket and boots everywhere he went.

Since his last encounter with Kyouko, the two barely saw each other, let alone speak. Kyouko's job as a rising politician and Izaya's as an overworked babysitter kept them well apart from each other for most of the day. And even when they were forced to interact, be it because of Shirou's meddling or the girls not knowing any better, Kyouko had respected Izaya's desire for space. Izaya didn't know where they were with each other. He knew that her apology was heartfelt and genuine, but he didn't know how to feel about it.

Thankfully, he didn't get too much time to dwell on those thoughts because of how busy his new schedule was (damn you, Shirou).

In the mornings, he was to escort the girls to their private kindergarten further into the city. At first, it had been a bit unnerving how clingy they were, grabbing for his hand the moment they set eyes on him and sticking to his side like glue for the whole walk. But after a while, Izaya began to find their clinginess endearing. The girls took to Izaya like a turtle-duck to water, sticking to him every chance they got. And even Izaya wasn't heartless enough to deny them his company. They still didn't know that Izaya was their half-sibling, but the two had all but adopted Izaya as their older brother.

Afternoons were spent either immersing himself in the millions of books stored in the Palace library or training in the massive Palace gym. He had even started practicing his healing skills with the help of a few textbooks. He knew he would never be very good at it, seeing as you needed strong spiritual tethers and a sound mind, both of which Izaya didn't have. But it was a useful skill to know, especially since he was looking after two rambunctious kindergarteners all day.

Sometimes, if he managed to find the time or grew bored of the Palace, he explored the city. He would wander around the semi-familiar streets and duck into shops he remembered seeing as a child. He even visited the little corner cafe that Shirou had first taken him to.

Then, once school was out, it was Izaya's job to pick the girls up and watch them until evening. That, in Izaya's opinion, was more tiring than any training he'd undergone in his life.

Since the girls saw him as more of a playmate than a guard, they would persistently drag Izaya to the park or pull him into their games. Most days, Izaya managed to get them under control, dragging them back to the Palace before they could run away.

Today was not one of those days.

"Mairu! Kururi! Get back here!" Izaya shouted, vaulting over the park bench in his way as he raced after the twins. Despite having such stubby legs, the two of them were surprisingly lithe, ducking below the low metal bars of the playground and narrowly evading Izaya's outstretched hands. "I'm supposed to bring you _home_ , now get back here!"

"Never!" Mairu crowed from above him, her chin resting above the playground's slide. Izaya's eyes narrowed when she gave him a Cheshire grin and stuck her tongue out.

Grabbing onto the bars, Izaya hauled himself up, but Mairu was already slipping down the slide, squealing with laughter. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kururi silently creeping down a spiralling ladder, hoping not to be seen. _'Oh, no, you don't!'_ Izaya jumped over the side of the slide and ran to the ladder, only to find Kururi on her knees, sobbing softly.

Izaya's adrenaline-fueled energy cut off in an instant. "Kururi?" He knelt down beside her, his eyes searching for any visible injuries. _'She probably fell, maybe hit herself against the metal a few times,'_ he thought. "Kururi, I need you to tell me where you're hurt." He reached out to touch her shoulder, but before he could even blink, Kururi was standing, looking perfectly fine. She wiped away her crocodile tears then sped off in the same direction as Mairu, leaving Izaya to blink stupidly where she once was.

"Sneaky little elephant-rats," Izaya grumbled under his breath, brushing snow off his pants as he chased Kururi further into the snowbank. 

When he eventually slowed, he realized that the twins were nowhere to be seen. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the snowy field. It was as if they had just disappeared. With a motion of his arm, he bent away the first layer of snow, levitating it in the air as he scanned the area for any sign of movement.

"Snowball fight!" A delighted shriek sounded behind him, followed by a wad of snow smacking against the back of his neck, sliding down his back and soaking his shirt. Mairu's exuberant laughter echoed through the clearing, and Izaya slowly turned to face her. They had piled their jackets into a makeshift shield, and a pile of snowballs were hastily stacked to the side.

"Really? You want to play this game?" Before they could react, Izaya bent the snow around him into two perfectly formed snowballs, hurling them at their feet. Mairu let out another loud giggle when the snowballs kicked up loose flurries, shielding her face as she was sprinkled with snow. Even the quiet Kururi was giggling at her sister's side, throwing a few snowballs of her own.

With a swirling motion of his hands, Izaya bent a massive boulder of snow into the air, making the girls shriek with laughter as they ran away again. "You're not getting away this time!" Izaya yelled, grinning when they laughed harder. He dropped the snow boulder over them, causing it to explode into a thick layer of powdery-white snow. Izaya dusted off his hands, smirking at his victory. "Now, let this be a lesson to listen to--"

"Aargh!" Without warning, Mairu and Kururi latched onto his legs, knocking him off balance and forcing him to land heavily on his back. "We win!" Mairu crowed, scrambling up to kneel by Izaya's chest and press her hands into Izaya's ribs. "We win, we win, we win!"

"Iza-anik lost," Kururi snickered from behind her glove.

Izaya rolled his eyes, flicking some snow-melt from his fingers into Kururi's face. "Yes, yes, good job, now get off." He pushed himself up and brushed away the snow that was clinging to his jacket and pants. Glancing down at the two of them, he frowned at their cheeky grins. They looked far too gleeful, considering how soaked through their uniform was. "What are you two grinning at?"

"Iza-anik never plays."

"But today, we did, and it was super duper fun!" Mairu finished. Izaya narrowed his eyes at the two of them. They were smarter than what they led on, Izaya was sure of that. Conniving little brats that knew how to get what they wanted through the right means. _'I guess we have that in common.'_

"Yeah, yeah," Izaya grumbled, shoving them off him. "Let's just go before you freeze to death."

* * *

_'Something's in my room.'_

Izaya's eyes shot open in the dark, his senses snapping into awareness at the sudden presence lurking behind him. Adrenaline trickled through his veins, erasing all traces of sleep and leaving him tense and alert. He kept his body still as stone as his fingers crept along the sheets, slowly drawing water from a pitcher at his bedside.

He felt the presence slink closer until they were near enough to touch.

In an instant, Izaya bent the water into a blade, throwing the blankets onto his attacker. He twisted his torso, so he was facing the intruder, prepared to strike...

Only to see Kururi, sprawled on the floor from the force of the blankets. Sighing, Izaya scrubbed a hand over his face roughly and dropped the knife. "Kururi, what are you doing here?" he groaned, leaning over to pull the blankets back onto the bed. "It's-" he glanced at the clock "-three in the morning. Go back to bed, I already told you, I'm not doing slumber parties."

Kururi didn't say anything. All she did was grab onto the loose sleeve of Izaya's sweater and tug urgently. Even without words, her face said it all; eyebrows scrunched in distress and a weighted frown tugging at her lips. Her hair was dishevelled from sleep, but her eyes were overbright with worry. "What's wrong?" He reluctantly stepped out of bed. "Is something wrong with Mairu?" 

Kururi pursed her lips, then nodded. "Nightmare," she whispered, her grip tightening on Izaya's sleeve. "Can't sleep."

"Both of you?" Kururi looked up at Izaya as if she was on the verge of tears. "Ok, ok, I'm coming." He followed Kururi down the frigid hallways to the twins' room.

Izaya rapped his knuckles against the door, then pushed it open. "Mairu," he called softly, only to be answered by a terrified whimper. In the low light, Izaya could just barely make out Mairu's trembling form, cocooned in a ball in the centre of her bed. "I'm turning on the light." He flicked the switch, squinting at the sudden brightness.

"Mairu," he repeated as he sat next to her, Kururi trailing behind him. He peeled away the blankets to reveal Mairu's face, her face flushed as tears spilt down her chubby cheeks. Her eyes were scrunched up tight, and her breathing hiccuped in her throat, making anything she wanted to say all but incoherent. "Mairu, look at me." With the edge of the blanket, he wiped away some of the tears still trailing down her face, only stopping when he saw a sliver of blue peeking out from her eyes.

"Stop crying. You're ok." He glanced down at Kururi, whose eyes were going wet like her sisters. Pulling her up onto the bed beside him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "You're both ok. I'm right here, see?"

Eventually, after a lot of coaxing, Mairu's sobs died down, her arms wound tight around Izaya's neck as she sniffled softly against his clavicle. Kururi had made her way onto Izaya's lap, and Izaya could feel her breathing hitch every now and then from her crying.

"I h-had... a bad dre-eam," Mairu croaked, her voice thick and nasally.

"I assumed so, but it was just a dream. None of it was real, I promise," Izaya soothed, feeling a pang of sympathy for the two of them. Izaya was no stranger to night terrors, having had his fair share of them in his youth. He still remembered how terrifying they were in the moment, and how much he wished someone would come and comfort him. "Why didn't you call Shirou or Kyouko?"

"Mama said she h-has a meeting to-tomorrow."

"Don't wanna disturb."

Izaya sighed disapprovingly under his breath, squeezing them tight. "Are you alright now?"

"No!" Mairu's already tight hold became vice-like. "Don't go, Iza-anik! Stay with us!" Izaya worried at his lip, then sighed.

"...Just for tonight. Let's go to my room, I have more space."

After a lot of shuffling, Izaya managed to get the three of them into his room and into bed before they could freeze in the ice-cold hallways. Izaya laid on his side with Mairu nestled close to his chest, her hand clenched tightly to the front of Izaya's sweater. Kururi was beside her sister, squeezing Mairu's hand. Izaya's arm draped over the two of them on top of the comforter, his hand holding onto Kururi's free one.

Now, Izaya was usually a massive stickler for personal space. The only people he'd been able to peacefully cohabit with was Tsukumoya, Kine, and Jang-mi, and even then, it took Izaya months to adjust. But he had to admit, this was surprisingly comfortable. Mairu's gentle snoring filled his ears, and he felt his eyelids droop.

All three of them slept soundly for the rest of the night.

* * *

Izaya sat cross-legged against the wall beside Shirou, his arms folded over his chest as he waited. It was Sunday, technically his day off, but Shirou had invited Izaya to watch the girls' bending lesson. Initially, he had refused, having better things to do with his precious free time. But when he saw Mairu in the hallway, her lower lip stuck out in a pout and looking thoroughly miserable, his interest had piqued. He was itching to know the cause of Mairu's despondent attitude, and, if it was because of bending lessons, Izaya needed to find out why. He had already made his fair share of speculation in his head, now all he had to do was watch and wait.

And wait, he did.

The girls and their instructor -- a young woman who hardly acknowledged Izaya's presence -- had been meditating for nearly half-an-hour, and Izaya was growing terribly bored. He had pulled out his phone twice to skim over the new barrage of texts Shinra had sent him that month, which included: several blurry photos of the same, unamused woman, a vague complaint about school, and one too many reminders about Izaya's debt to him.

"Is there a reason why they're taking this long?" Izaya whispered irritably, keeping mindful of how his voice travelled in the echoey gym. "Only airbenders meditate for this long. Why aren't they doing Tai Chi drills instead?"

Shirou squatted down beside him and brought his head closer. "Mairu's been having trouble getting a feel for waterbending. She hasn't been able to feel the push and pull of the water yet, so they're doing more meditation to try and get her Chi circulating." Izaya nodded. It made sense, though, if Izaya was her teacher, he would have started with a more exciting task than sitting and breathing for long periods. 

"Have you considered that Mairu may be a non-bender?" Izaya asked, knowing full well that no amount of meditating or practice would be able to remedy that.

"It's a possibility, but since she's so young, it's equally likely that she's just having difficulty picking it up. If she's a non-bender, we won't love her any less, but for now, I think it's a good idea for her to keep trying." 

Izaya frowned slightly. Knowing Shirou, he probably thought that he was doing what was best for his daughter. But in Izaya's eyes, Shirou was setting her up for failure. In Qanuk, when they started testing for waterbending abilities, non-bending children were pushed harder and harder to try and force out their non-existent skills. With each push, the non-bending children grew more and more miserable, and he could see the same thing happening with Mairu. "How long have you been trying?"

"Almost two months," Shirou said sheepishly. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed Shirou with a heated stare. Izaya didn't like this one bit.

"Alright, girls," Izaya heard their instructor say, clapping her hands together. "We're going to try the same push and pull exercise as last week. Let's get ready by the pool." He saw Kururi shoot Mairu a worried glance as she helped her younger sister up. She was speaking, but Izaya couldn't hear what she was saying. If he had to guess, they were words of encouragement, perhaps even concern.

He watched as the twins adjusted themselves into a fine-tuned stance, pushing their arms in and out in a rhythmic pattern. Kururi had managed to create small ripples that grew into a short wave. It was stiff and stilted, but Kururi was already showing promise as a waterbender.

Mairu, on the other hand, was clearly struggling. Her movements, once slow and steady like her sisters, had become erratic and rushed, her face flushing red with frustration as she tried and failed to push and pull the water. "Mairu-" the instructor settled her hands on Mairu's shoulders and began to adjust her stance "-remember, take it slowly." The instructor helped correctly move Mairu's arms, but Mairu was still clearly frustrated. "Focus on the Chi flowing inside you. Let it push and pull through your arms like the tide." The woman's tone was overly sweet, almost condescending in Izaya's ears. "Ok, now you try."

"No!" Mairu ripped herself away from the woman, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did so. "I don't want to anymore!" she screamed before running out of the gym.

Shirou was quick to his feet, but Izaya was quicker. "I'll go," Izaya offered over his shoulder, already moving to follow Mairu. He didn't bother waiting for a reply.

As usual, Mairu knew where to hide when she didn't want to be found, but Izaya eventually found her, curled up in a pitiful ball in a vacant hallway. Izaya's boots made soft _thumps_ as he approached and slid down next to her.

"I don't wanna go back," Mairu sniffled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"And I won't make you," Izaya said smoothly, swiftly quelling Mairu's fears. "If you hadn't left on your own, I might have pulled you out myself." Mairu lifted her head somewhat, her eyes red, but at least she was no longer crying. "I don't know what Shirou was thinking, but these lessons aren't good for you."

"What if you teached me instead?" Mairu begged, her voice sounding desperate. "If you are my teacher, I could waterbend!" But when Izaya shook his head, her lip trembled, and her eyes welled up with tears once more. 

"Sometimes, these things just don't work out," he said gently, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to upset Mairu more than she already was.

"But Kuru-angijuk can bend. Mama and Papa, too, so why can't I?" Her voice broke into another wet sob that tugged uncomfortably in Izaya's chest.

"Why do you even want to bend?" Izaya scoffed rather callously. "As you said, waterbending isn't even unique. Other arts are way cooler than waterbending, you know." He leaned in close to whisper the last part, his voice hushed as if he was telling her a secret.

"...Really?" Mairu croaked. Izaya nodded quickly. As he'd thought, appealing to Mairu's ego was doing the trick. "Like what?"

"When I was just a little bit older than you, I had a lot of non-bending friends." Granted, 'a lot' really only meant a few, and calling them 'friends' was a massive overstatement. "And even though they couldn't bend, they knew an _amazing_ technique that could top any bender, no matter who."

"Really?" Mairu said again, her voice picking back up again and her eyes regaining some of their old shine. "What was it?"

"It's called Chi Blocking. It's a technique where the user makes quick jabs to their opponent's pressure points, which blocks their Chi and leaves them defenceless. The muscles relax, and if their opponent is a bender, they're left unable to bend for long periods of time." Izaya didn't realize how clinical his explanation had become until he glanced down at Mairu, only to find confusion. "It's where you do this-" he lightly poked up Mairu's arm, making her giggle "-to turn their body into jelly." He shook Mairu's shoulders, inciting another round of laughter.

"Iza-anik, do you know how to do it?"

Izaya shook his head. In Qanuk, only the non-benders learned Chi Blocking. "If you learn it, it would be a technique special to you." And most of the non-bending guards, but Izaya didn't want to crush the reinvigorated excitement on Mairu's face.

"I wanna learn that instead!" Mairu jumped onto her knees and gripped Izaya's shoulder. "Do you think Papa will let me?"

"I think he'll give you anything you ask for," Izaya snorted, hauling himself back up. "Are you ready to go back now?"

Mairu sniffled noisily, purposefully obnoxious, and rigorously rubbed her face. "Yes!"

Izaya rolled his eyes. "You're more trouble than your worth," he sighed, holding out his hand without having to be asked.

"Thanks, Iza-anik!"

* * *

The Palace courtyard was one of Izaya's favourite places in the Palace. It was an oasis in the middle of the frozen tundra, an artificially heated area surrounded by cotton grass and trim stone-work. Grass and bamboo shoots surrounded a massive willow tree, all neatly trimmed to perfection. Twin, lichen-covered walls led further into the public garden, complete with all different types of native and non-native Southern Water Tribe plants, and a frost-covered maze.

One of Izaya's favourite pastimes was to sit here, in the oasis, either with a book or intently watching the visitors as they milled about in the gardens.

Today, however, the oasis was in chaos. Hideous green and yellow streamers were draped over the great willow and the surrounding shrubs, haphazardly strewn across the clearing in bright streaks of unnatural colour. Balloons were scattered everywhere, too, some of them coming loose from their fastenings and were escaping into the sky. The excited shrieks of children filled the air as they ran around the courtyard.

The other side of the courtyard was lined with tables, piled high with presents, food, and a _five-layer cake_ that was nearly as tall as Izaya. All the adults were clustered around those tables, making idle chat with each other while drinking flutes of champagne. Izaya, on the other hand, was still tasked with watching Mairu and Kururi, so he had taken to sitting on one of the great willow's heavy branches. It wasn't that he was being excluded from their table, Izaya just had no interest in joining them. Most of the adults were politicians or high-ranking soldiers, and Izaya had no interest in making conversation with them. They would only be predictably stuffy and bland, anyway.

Currently, Izaya was fiddling with one of his phones, a new model that he'd just bought last week. Though he wasn't being paid for all the work he did, Shirou still snuck him some under the table pocket money for him to spend on whatever he pleased. At first, he was a little taken aback when Shirou offhandedly passed him a few bills. He was so used to managing his own expenses, that he wasn't sure of what to do with himself when Shirou insisted that he would be Izaya's provider. Izaya had tried to point out that it directly went against the terms of their contract, but Shirou had waved it off, saying, "as long as it's not government money, it's fine." 

He was scrolling through a conspiracy forum when Shirou appeared in front of the tree. "Izaya," he called, beckoning him down. "You're officially on break."

"Thank god." Izaya stretched his spine and sent Tsukumoya a quick text that they'll talk later. "I thought I'd be sitting there all day." Once Izaya had jumped down, Shirou pressed a paper plate into his hands.

"They're cutting the cake for the kids soon, and I snuck a slice for you." Izaya pressed his fork against the side of it, snorting at how familiar it looked.

"Lemon with raspberry jam and cream cheese frosting," Izaya chuckled, licking some of the icing off his fork and making a face. "It's just as disgusting as I remember."

Shirou let out a hearty chuckle at that. "We have coffee over there if you'd like some," Shizuo said, gesturing over to where Kyouko was idling in front of another table. "Or, champagne, if you're so inclined."

Izaya raised a scandalized eyebrow at Shirou. "Offering alcohol to a minor?" he gasped in mock horror. "I never thought you were the type."

"Oh, you're almost eighteen, it's fine! Besides, I'm the head honcho here! No one will stop you." Shirou tugged at the lapels of his jacket humorously.

"Careful, careful," Izaya tuttered. "You sound like a corrupt old politician."

"Come sit sit with us," Shirou offered. "There are many people here who would be thrilled to meet you."

"Are you trying to groom me into a future politician, Shirou?"

"I'm giving you connections. What you decide to do with them is your choice."

Izaya huffed a laugh then waved his hand. "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to pass." He left toward the garden, away from the kids swarming like shoals of fish around the elaborate cake. "I won't be long," Izaya chirped over his shoulder, throwing out his cake as he disappeared behind the lichen wall.

He shivered when the warmth from the space heaters began to fade, reminding him of the lingering, late-winter chill. Flipping up his hood, he skipped deeper into the maze, humming a broken tune under his breath. The garden was empty today, reserved for the twins' birthday, which was a little disappointing. The cheesiest people always chose Valentine's day to propose to their significant other, and Izaya wouldn't be able to witness it! He had seen two proposals in this garden, and they were fascinating to watch. People conducted themselves differently in public rather than in private. But each undying demonstration of love gave him a glimpse into their lives that went unseen by the outsiders. He loved watching their body language, picking it apart until their character unfolded before him like the pages of a book.

_'Oh, well,'_ Izaya thought, puffing warm air over his hands. _'There's always my next day off.'_ He strolled through the twisting hedges, following the forked paths, set on reaching the centre. He was only a few paces in when he found Kururi, still dressed in her poofy party dress, sitting on one of the benches. Izaya sighed, putting his hands on his hips. _'How am I_ not _paid overtime...'_

"Kururi," he called, walking over with his hands stuck in his pockets. "What are you doing here?" Kururi glanced up and offered Izaya a small smile but kept silent. Izaya unzipped his coat and sat down, opening it to cover Kururi's shoulders. "Why aren't you in the courtyard? They're cutting the cake."

Kururi shrugged, her fingers gripping the edge of Izaya's coat. "Too loud," she murmured, wiggling further into the warmth of Izaya's jacket. "Wanna sit here."

It was a valid reason, Izaya supposed. Having all those kids running and screaming around you was probably a bit overwhelming for the quiet Kururi. "Hmm... You can stay for a bit, but if your nose freezes off, I'm not saving you." Kururi giggled softly at that, then, after a few seconds, she reached out to tentatively grip Izaya's ring and pinkie finger, which Izaya in turn curled against hers.

"Iza-anik..." Izaya glanced down when Kururi's usually monotone voice quavered with uncertainty. Kururi's emotionless demeanour was hard for even Izaya to read sometimes, so this sudden show of emotion came as a surprise. "Do you... like Mairu more?"

Izaya blinked in surprise at her sudden question. "What? No, I find you both equally annoying." Izaya's frown deepened when Kururi's expression didn't change. "Where did you even get an idea like that?"

"Other kids," she mumbled, kicking up a bit of snow. "Don't like me. Only Mairu." There was a surprising amount of bitterness in her tone, and Izaya wasn't sure who it was directed at.

Sighing, Izaya rubbed his hand over his face. While it was true that Mairu and Kururi were drastically different personalities, Izaya saw no fault in that. "Wish I was more like her," she whispered in the silence.

"I certainly don't," Izaya sniffed. "Having two Mairu's sounds boring to me. Having two of the same _anything_ is boring. If you were copies of each other, neither of you would have any purpose. In fact, if you were anything more like Mairu, I'm sure I'd lose interest in the both of you. But you're not. Your inherent differences are what sets you apart from each other, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Any kid who wants you to be Mairu's carbon copy isn't smart enough to appreciate your uniqueness. Not as smart as me, and certainly not as smart as you." 

Izaya nodded to himself. It wasn't exactly what most people would find comforting, but it was the only way Izaya knew how. He only hoped that Kururi had understood what he was trying to convey.

When he looked back down to Kururi, he was relieved to see her face settled back into calm. "Talk too much." The corners of her mouth were quirked up in a subtle grin, any traces of uncertainty wiped from her face.

"Yes, yes, I've picked up Mairu's unfortunate chatterbox habit," Izaya grinned. He shivered when a gust of wind blew right through his shirt without his coat. "Let's go back." Kururi nodded silently, and Izaya led the two of them back to the courtyard. Once they made it to the stone-lined clearing, Kururi broke away from Izaya and ran to her sister's side. Mairu threw her arms gleefully around her twin, her mouth moving at a mile a minute.

Izaya folded his arms over his chest. By then, his precious few minutes of free time had dried up. But, then again, some things were more important than breaks.

* * *

Izaya hurried down the Palace's maze of hallways, speeding past guards and staff as he raced to the twins' room. Yesterday night, he had promised the girls that he would read them a story before bed. But it had completely slipped his mind, set onto the backburner of Izaya's attention. It only found its way back into Izaya's train of thought while he was leaning over the rail of a high building, halfway across the Capital.

It had taken him nearly half an hour to make it back, and all he could do was pray to the spirits that the girls had fallen asleep.

He slowed when he neared their door, plastered with stickers and drawings that the twins had stuck onto it. Still panting, he carefully wedged their door open, moving slowly, so the squeaky hinges stayed quiet. The room was dark save for the lamp on Mairu's nightstand. Both girls were tucked snuggly into Mairu's bed, piled so high with pillows and stuffed toys that Izaya could hardly see them beneath their mound of plushies.

Kyouko, who was sitting on an ottoman at their bedside, turned around to glance at Izaya. Her eyes went wide for a second, then softened.

Izaya cleared his throat, then straightened, adopting a professional air. "Lady Kyouko," he murmured, his voice distant and flat. "I apologize for my lateness."

"Don't worry about it," Kyouko murmured. "Why don't you come in." She beckoned him closer with a slight wave of her hand. Izaya hesitated for a second, wondering if he could politely dismiss himself, seeing as she had already put the girls to bed. But instead, he flattened his features into indifference, shut the door, and sat down opposite to Kyouko on a low stool. "The girls were so disappointed when you didn't come." Izaya stiffened at her words, only distantly recognizing the mirth in her voice. "They were so excited to hear a bedtime story from you that they didn't even want me to do it," she chuckled, her hand coming up to her mouth.

"Again, I apologize," Izaya said, bowing his head. "Please excuse my tardiness. It won't happen again."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm usually so busy that I don't have time to put the girls to sleep, so it's nice to finally get the chance." Kyouko tenderly smoothed her hands over the blankets, staring fondly down at her daughters. A creeping thought in the back of Izaya's mind wondered if she ever regretted not being able to tuck him in when he was a child. Naturally, he shook the thought off as quickly as it came, but it made the silence between them feel tense and strained.

Even though Kyouko looked like the picture of calm, with each passing minute, tension wound tighter and tighter around Izaya's spine until he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up, the action to jumpy and quick to come off as natural. "If you'll excuse me, Lady Kyouko, I'll be taking my leave."

"Wait, Izaya." He stopped in his tracks, his shoulders up to his ears. "Please, sit down. I think we should talk."

"If you'd like to talk, we may do it somewhere else at another time."

"We both know that'll never happen." Izaya clenched his jaw. It was true, even if Izaya hated it. The only neutral ground the two of them had was with Mairu and Kururi, or -- if Izaya was unlucky enough to get caught by Shirou -- over the dinner table. "There's still so much tension between us-" an understatement, in Izaya's opinion, "-and I know that I haven't done enough to remedy that, I _do_. But I want to change that." Her eyes were pleading, begging Izaya to sit back down and listen to her.

"Fine," Izaya muttered, sitting back on his seat and fixing her with a glare, not bothering to hide his hostility any longer. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"I want to apologize--"

"You already have," Izaya snapped before she could finish. "Back when I first arrived, remember? Or did you forget about that like you forgot about me?"

"I-I never forgot about you." Her eyes were brimming with hurt, but that only made Izaya angrier. She had no right to be hurt! It was _Izaya_ who she rejected, _Izaya_ who had lived through hell trying to find himself, _Izaya_ who had to find his own family. Not her. "I _never_ forgot about you," she repeated with more conviction. "Not then, and not now. I think you deserve a better apology than what I first gave you."

"Fine. Then say it." Izaya knew he was being petty. He shouldn't care about Kyouko. She wasn't his mother, he already had one in Jang-mi, so why did it still _hurt_?

"...Do you... remember when we first met?" Kyouko whispered, her voice trembling. "When I said..."

"That I remind you of your mistakes?" Izaya finished frostily. "Yes, how could I forget the day that the woman who birthed me called me a mistake."

Kyouko flinched, pressing her lips tightly together as if she was in pain. "Yes, that. I want you to know that I never meant to say that _you_ were a mistake, Izaya. When I first met you, all I saw were the mistakes _I_ had made. I should have been your mother, someone you could... could _confide in_ and _trust_ , but instead, I redirected all the anger I held in myself to you, and that is the biggest regret I have in my _life_. I should have been there for you when you were confused and hurting, but all I could think about was myself.

"I don't expect that you'll forgive me. I've caused you so much pain, even though you try so hard to hide it. I see it sometimes, you know? When you look at me, or when I'm with the girls, and I hate that I'm the cause of that pain." She took a deep breath, and Izaya unknowingly mimicked the action.

The intensity of her voice made Izaya's mind whirl with confusion. Her words were raw and sincere, impossible to mistake for anything other than genuine emotion. But even with her heart laid out before him, Izaya didn't know how to feel. The pain of her rejection still lingered in the back of his mind, even though he had Kine and Jang-mi to make up for it ten times over. The desire to spit in her face and scream for all the turmoil she'd caused him had dampened considerably, though, leaving Izaya feeling numb and uncertain.

"I'm sorry I didn't love you the way you deserved to be." Izaya jumped when Kyouko's fingers brushed his, but he didn't pull away. "I'm sorry I wasn't the mother I should have been, and I'm sorry for the immeasurable hurt I've caused you. But I'm hoping with this, we can ease some of the tension between us. I want us to stop avoiding each other, and I hope that one day, we can have some kind of a relationship."

Izaya sighed, his brain a jumble of distorted, half-formed thoughts that just couldn't for themselves into coherency, no matter how hard he tried. "I... I don't know if I can," Izaya croaked, honesty bleeding into his voice as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. "Not yet." He didn't know if he could accept her apology just yet. Izaya still carried too many ill feelings towards her to be able to forgive her, but maybe, one day, he would be.

Kyouko nodded. "I understand. We can take that step when you're ready." She squeezed Izaya's fingers lightly, a barely-there pressure that pressed soothing warmth that lingered against Izaya's skin. It reminded him of the gentle ferocity with which Jang-mi held Izaya when he left.

He didn't pull away for a long time.

* * *

"Iza-anik!" 

"Izaaa-anik!"

"Iza-aniiiik!" Mairu's shrill voice sounded from across the room, over the music coming in through Izaya's headphones. Izaya grinded his teeth as he tried to focus on the book that was in front of him, his brow twitching with irritation as Mairu continued shrieking. "Iza-anik!"

He snapped the book shut and shot a glare over to where Mairu and Kururi were jumping on his bed. "What?" he snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

Mairu flung a pillow at him, and Kururi stuck her tongue out, flopping down on Izaya's mattress. "Reading, not busy," Kururi sniffed. "We're just trying to tell you something," Mairu whined, bellyflopping onto the duvet with enough force to nearly send her sister tumbling off the bed.

"Ok, what is it?"

"Something's beeping." Mairu grabbed a loose pelt and threw it into the air, both girls giggling when Izaya stood to catch it. "We can't find it, though."

Izaya frowned. "I don't hear any beeping." Right when he said that, he heard the familiar tinny chime of his old flip phone, ringing from where it was hidden in his drawer.

"Iza-anik, liar," Kururi accused scandalously, pointing at Izaya with a horrified expression. Pushing Kururi's finger out of his face, Izaya pulled open his drawer and rummaged past several other phones to pull out the beaten up old flip phone from Chengzhen. "What's that?"

"Yeah, you never showed it to us before." Mairu made a swipe for it, but Izaya swiftly stepped out of the way, avoiding Mairu's jabs at his side as well.

Izaya flipped open the phone, staring pensively at the grainy screen. _INCOMING CALL_ , it read, which was odd because Shinra never called. There were also several unread messages sitting in his mailbox, even more than what Shinra usually sent in his monthly check-in if Izaya was alive. Ignoring the whines from Mairu and Kururi behind him, Izaya stepped out into the hall and clicked _answer_.

_"Izaya-kun, thank goodness!"_ Izaya instantly pulled the phone away from his ears, cringing at the volume. Shinra sounded just as he'd remembered him, though his voice was slightly lower. He could still hear the thinly veiled mania buzzing in his tone. _"I've been trying to reach you all day! Where have you been?_

"Shinra, why are you calling me?" Izaya sighed, ignoring Shinra's question as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you cashing in your favour?"

_"Yes! Yes, exactly, that! My favour!"_

"Alright, I get it. What is it?"

_"I need you to come here as soon as you can!"_

Izaya's brows furrowed in annoyance. "Ok, one, define 'here' and two, how fast is soon?"

_"I need you to come to Ikebukuro! It's a city in the Fire Nation, I'm sure you've heard of it? A-And I need you here as soon as you can get here, no longer than a week, preferably tomorrow."_

"Tomorrow?" Izaya repeated incredulously. "What have you gotten yourself into that needs me there so quickly?" Izaya demanded, feeling a tug of interest in his gut.

_"It's a bit of a long story, but basically, I need you to be on this pro-bending team, so they don't get kicked before the season starts."_ Izaya scrunched up his nose. It wasn't what he was expecting, and frankly, it sounded boring.

"Hold on, Shinra, how much do you think I owe you?"

_"Think of it as interest! Please, Izaya! I need you to do this for me! It would mean a lot to me! It would just be for the season, I promise! Then you can go back to wherever you are now!"_

"I can't even play the sport."

_"Then we'll teach you!"_

"Does that include you? I hate to break it to you, but I don't think you can bend."

_"Not me! The firebender and earthbender on your team! You remember Shizuo-kun, right?"_ Izaya perked up at the familiar name as images of a self-loathing boy with ridiculous bending filled his head. _"He's on the team, and he'll teach you! And the team's earthbender, they'll both teach you! Please, Izaya-kun!"_

Izaya sighed deeply into the phone. He was technically still employed under Shirou, and breaking the contract now would mean that he would have to leave the twins... But that blond boy Shinra had told him about all those years ago still fascinated him. Even now, there were days where Izaya would think about the Shinra's firebending friend, wondering just what kind of beast he must be to live up to the tales. Plus, it had been years since Shinra told Izaya about this friend, so who knew just how much he'd progressed since then.

_"...se, Izaya-kun, I'm not asking for much! Might I remind you that I saved you life? Well, I think doing this for me is a small price to pay for not being a corpse--"_

"I'll do it."

_"...Really?"_

"I don't know if I'll be able to get there tomorrow, but I'll see if I can arrange something."

_"Ohmigosh, Izaya-kun, thank you so much, you have no clue how much this means to me!"_

Well, it was more to meet Shinra's firebending friend than for Shinra, but Izaya doubted that he cared. They sorted out a few of the details before Shinra gave Izaya an enthusiastic farewell, and the line clicked off.

Izaya flipped his phone shut and rested his head against the wall. It had been a while since Izaya's last adventure around the world. He just hoped that the twins would take it well.

* * *

By sunset the day after Shinra's call, Izaya was all set to leave. After explaining his situation to Shirou, he had agreed to make the arrangements for Izaya's departure. He had naturally been confused at first, but both he and Kyouko had accepted Izaya's decision on the condition that he keep in contact. Others, however, weren't as quick to accept the change.

"You're leaving?" Mairu's utterly heartbroken sob tore from her throat as she clung tightly to Izaya's side. "No, no, no, I don't _want_ you to leave!"

"Iza-anik, why?" Kururi's voice was barely above a whisper, her lip trembling so hard that her speech shook just as much. "Stay here," she begged.

Izaya felt his heart ache painfully in his chest. Even though he knew this was coming, it didn't make it any less hard. "I won't be gone for long," he said reassuringly, petting their hair soothingly. "I'll be a phone call away."

"N-Not the sa-ame," Kururi cried, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"It's not like I'm going away forever. I'll be back to visit when I can."

"You shouldn't go!" Mairu screamed, hitting Izaya hard in the ribs. "Don't go anywhere, stay with us!"

"Mairu." He grabbed the girl's shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "I'm not going away forever," he said calmly. Mairu only broke out into more tears. He held both of them close until their sobs died down into sniffles, waiting for them to pull back before he did. "I'll be back before you know it."

He stood and turned to face Kyouko and Shirou, who were waiting at the edge of the dock by the cruiser Shirou had procured for him. Shirou still looked confused, and Kyouko's eyes were dark with worry beside him.

"This is awfully reminiscent of the first time we had to send you away," Shirou murmured in a low voice.

"Well, the circumstances are a little different this time, aren't they?" Izaya held out his arm for Shirou to shake, which he did. "Thank you, Chieftain Shirou, Lady Kyouko. It's been an honour."

Shirou squeezed his hand in a firm grip. "Keep in contact, Izaya."

"I'll try." He bowed to Kyouko, who returned the gesture.

"Stay safe," she murmured, placing her hand on Izaya's shoulder.

With that, Izaya boarded the cruiser, the engine purring to life as it began to slowly pull out from the harbour. He watched them as they waved goodbye, their figures growing tiny in the distance.

"Orihara," the captain called, snapping Izaya out of his stupor. "We should reach Ikebukuro by nightfall."

Izaya nodded, watching the glowing city slowly disappear over the horizon, onward to Ikebukuro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... 40k... I'M SO SORRY, SHIZU-CHAN TwT IT HAD TO BE DONE!!! I DON'T LOVE YOU ANY LESS I PROMISEEEEE
> 
> I hate to do my boi like that, but the next fic will be in Shizuo's POV(hopefully), so forgive me!

**Author's Note:**

> So, unless it's not clear, I hinted to Kyouko having post-partum depression, which is something that new mothers can get sometimes. It can lead to negative/indifferent feelings towards a child, feelings of worthlessness and guilt, and (tw) thoughts that the baby or themself would be better off dead. I thought that, with all the stress I was putting Kyouko on, it would make sense for her feelings of dislike for Izaya would stem from something like this.
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed this little intro for Izaya's intro. Keep your eyes out for the next chapter!


End file.
